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LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
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Story of October,
: ' Autumn, laying here and there,
A fiery finger on the leaves. ' '
— Whittier.
WHEN the leaves begin to
turn and the days grow
somewhat shorter and colder,
we realize that our Summer is at
an encH.and^Qur thoughts '"are turned
to Ingleside and our school work.
This year it was the same old
story again to us old girls. Our
' ' first mortgage claim ' ' on Ingle-
side having been well established,
homesickness is far from our
thoughts, and in coming back each
Oc
er
INGLESIDE LOG.
year we simply take possession of "our own." On the
evening of October second, eighteen ninety-five, Mrs.
Black was in " the Hall " as usual, to bid us welcome,
notwithstanding the attractions of her new home on the
hill ; the fire crackled its cheerful greeting to us ; and,
as we looked about at the familiar objects there was a
queer feeling that we had not been away.
In the Autumn Fields.
The next day found us, as it has many times before,
occupied in planning our work for the coming year,
and in trying to make the new girls feel at home. One
aid to this result is the usual big bonfire on Hickory
Hearth. So bright a thing can hardly do less than cheer
those who are blue ; but if the fire failed to brighten
INGLESIDE LOG.
them, the dancing and refreshments which followed in
the Drill Room did the work that night. The first week
of school was necessarily a hard one ; but, when Satur-
day came, we were repaid for our labors by Mrs. Black,
who kindly invited us all to spend the day with her at
Iyazy Iyodge. The old girls knew what glorious fun was
Our Honorary Members.
in store for them ; and, when we returned, the new girls
allowed our prophecies to be more than true.
Above all, the important events of this month, first
and foremost, in the mind of a golf enthusiast, stands
that of the organization of the Ingleside Golf Club,
which took place on Friday evening, October the elev-
enth, eighteen hundred and ninety-five. The idea had
INGLESIDE LOG.
been suggested before school opened, and the brother of
one of our new girls, enthusiastically assisted by Miss
Hunt and Mr. Draper, had laid out links over the beau-
tiful fields of Hickory Hearth. When we arrived they
had tried the grounds and pronounced them "fine."
By acclamation they were made honorary members of
the club. A week later the officers had been elected,
and the club was in ' ' full swing. ' ' We trust it is not
necessary to pause until you catch the meaning of that
joke. Then, to demonstrate its versatility, the club gave
an entertainment within doors. Those tableaux ! — space
forbids, and modesty declines to expatiate upon them.
Since then the club has been growing in numbers and
importance. It has held quite a number of meetings ;
possibly some of you may recall having seen posted on
the board in the Bindestrich, "A meeting of the Golf
Club in the Studio, ' ' immediately after dinner or luncheon,
or whenever it takes it into its head to meet. One un-
feeling outsider had the audacity to remark that she did n't
see how we got through with one meeting in time for
another — but that 's because she was not "in it."
One Saturday evening the old girls gave a card
party for the benefit of the new ones, which proved a
delightful success. Then came, as one of the notable
excitements of the month, the initiation of Miss Flor-
ence Hammond into the mysteries of the Pansy Gar-
den. Upon this subject nothing definite can be said,
but that the interest was great and wide- spread, and
that she came out alive, with only a few scratches to
remind her, for a week or so, of her unusual privileges.
LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
INGLESIDE LOG. n
The dancing class, under Professor Newell, which is
held every Wednesday afternoon, is evidently to become
a feature of the school. Promptly at three-fifteen, very
often at three-ten, a long, dark line winds itself around
the corner, and with military precision proceeds up Ter-
race Place. Presently the cloak room is filled with
masculine garbs, and the Rectory School is in our midst.
Then "on with the dance, let joy be unconfined," is
the word of the hour until dinner-time. But dancing
has not been confined to Ingleside entirely. On All
Hallow E'en there was a charming dance to the Banjo
Orchestra at the Weantinaug ; had it not rained, the
hotel would have been crowded ; as it was, those who
had courage to venture out had a most glorious time.
And now we come to the best evening of all, when
the fire was lighted in tlie'rougn^'stbhe '^chimney at
Hickory Hearth.
Since we left New Milford in the Spring, the new
house, which seemed then a mass of stone and timber,
had taken definite shape, and we found it on our return
crowning the top of Aspetuck Hill, " a thing of beauty,"
and certainly destined to be to us girls, " a joy forever."
The great entrance hall has dark oak wainscoting and
low timber roof, a quaint staircase, just the thing for
us to crowd upon, and an enormous fire-place and rough
cobble-stone chimney coming down into the room. This
chimney is built of stones which have been collected in
various parts of the world. A bit of Westminster Ab-
bey ; lava from Pompeii ; tile from Canterbury Cathe-
dral ; stones with Shaksperian associations from Strat-
12 INGLESIDE LOG.
ford-on- Avon ; and a hundred other interesting relics.
We found a rock with a little painting upon it, by Mr.
Charles Parsons, whom we old girls all remember lov-
ingly, and many souvenir stones from Mrs. Black's
friends and relatives. The most important feature of the
room and of the house, indeed, is the big hearthstone,
an immense block of New Milford granite, which years
ago Mr. Black brought onto the hillside and designed for
its present position. Although Mrs. Black had been
several weeks in the house, no fire had yet been lighted
on this hearthstone. It seemed the starting of a new
home for Ingleside girls. We were all included in the
invitation for the evening, and Mr. Draper's blessing
was for all of us. A '93 graduate had written a lovely
song which we all sang, and a '94 graduate, in a poem,
told the big hearthstone what its mission was to be, and
why. Then dear Mrs. Sanford touched a torch to the
pile of logs, and the flames sprang up, lighting her white
hair and filling the room with a sort of glory, and Mr.
Draper said the prayer of benediction.
Kvery one entered heartily into the sweet memories
and associations which clustered already about that
hearthstone, but there was in the crowd of girls just
one, who of her own knowledge, understood these asso-
ciations, and whose hand had touched and loved the
hand which years before had laid the foundation of this
home. This one girl said nothing of her recollections,
but, more than any other could, she understood
" The minor in the carol and the shadow in the light."
Isabel Nelson Smith.
Lighting of the Log at Hickory Hearth.
October, 1895.
ON the bleak hillside many years it lay
Beaten by storms, this hearthstone gray,
Chilled by the snows, so scarcely August's sun
Could warm its heart. O silent, dreaming one
What were your thoughts as seasons onward rolled ?
Visions of past days, scenes bygone and old
Stirred your still depths with mem'ries manifold.
That was not life ; no wonder you were cold !
Numb and unconscious, perhaps wondering
Where was the hand that first did bring
You to the hillside, little did you heed
Changes about you, or you had indeed
L,earned long ago, from every wind that blew,
From the bees buzzing gossip as they flew,
Something of that kind fireside light that threw
Beams from beneath the hill. You never knew
When the grass 'round you rustled 'neath the feet
Of many maidens, come to greet
Those budding trees ; and when, from ev'ry side,
Wanton echoes were wakened far and wide. —
14 INGLE SIDE LOG.
Now when to-night we come and find you here
Where all those hopes that once to you were dear,
Long ago laid aside as dead and sere,
Burst into bloom, and ev'ry where appear,
Still your dull heart is cold. You do not deem
This other than a lengthy dream
Iyike those upon the hillside in days past.
Ah ! but old stone, 'tis time you woke at last.
Know you the meaning of this gathering ?
We 've come to rouse 3 T ou from your slumbering.
Now shall your heart warm to its wakening,
For in our midst a magic brand we bring ;
And by that talisman we '11 work a spell —
List, while your future we foretell :
You, as an altar to that spirit kind
Whose presence over all this house we find,
Bearing the emblem of his genial cheer,
His well- remembered heartiness, so dear
Unto all those who raised and placed you here,
Henceforth shall stand, his honored likeness near.
Here then we pledge ourselves, old friend, to-night.
Once kindled, naught shall dim your light.
When the winds rage, and fields are decked with snow,
Brighter and warmer still shall be } T our glow.
Should e'er the fires beneath the hill grow cold,
We '11 send to } t ou, as Vesta's shrine of old,
Seeking a brand which precious life shall hold,
Make our dull Purple warm, regild our Gold.
INGLESIDE LOG. 15
Lo ! what a future dawns for one, outcast
Through many years, restored at last !
See where the dancing flame, like hope's bright ray,
Sends forth its sparks that o'er his features play !
Hark ! The gay crackle tells the fire has spun
Its net of golden threads. Our spell is done !
Watch now the stone. Reluctant to be won,
Warming, he wakes ! The new life has begun.
Jkan Lkk Hunt, '94.
Lighting of the Log at Hickory Hearth,
October, '95.
Tune : Auld Lang Sync.
TO thee, O Stone ! a charge we give,
A charge for coming days,
A final thought before we part,
For thee to keep always —
For thee to keep always, O Stone !
For thee to keep always ;
To ever hold within thy heart
The charge of coming days.
For friends whom thou shalt later greet,
For strangers at thy side,
For girlish faces, oft who meet
Sweet welcome to provide.
A sense of love, a sense of cheer,
L,et ever from thee flow ;
A greeting for them as the}' come,
A God- speed as they go.
INGLESIDE LOG. 17
Oh ! may the blessing given to-night
Bide ever and for aye !
Oh ! may thy dancing flames so light
Send forth their brightest ray !
Send forth their brightest ray, Stone !
Send forth their brightest ray,
To turn to sunshine in our hearts,
To gild the coming day.
Edith Warner, '93.
Storytime,
ETWEEN the dark and the daylight, when
the night is beginning to lower, ' ' comes
the time for story-telling. Then we
Cuckoos all troop to a certain room
where we scramble onto the beds, any-
way at all, so long as we are comfort-
able, and the stories commence — or,
rather, we are ready to hear them ;
but it takes a long time to decide who
shall begin. You see, we have not
had enough practice yet to enjoy our
own tales better than the tales of others. Finally some
unlucky girl is chosen.
One of our favorites is "The Clam Story." It
commences in this way : ' ' Once upon a time there
was a little girl, and her name was Mary — no ; I think
it was Susan. Well — well, she went down to the
INGLESIDE LOG. 19
shore — " "Are you shore of it?" breaks in one of
the girls ; and so it goes on, until the story is finished.
Another girl tells of weird ghosts appearing in all
sorts of ways, and, I must confess, we often see the
ghosts ourselves.
Then, when the stories are told, we talk about our
personal experiences ; and these make almost as much
excitement as the ghost stories.
Before one can realize it, the clock strikes nine ;
and someone begins to sing — " Madchen sie miissen
Deutsch" — we don't wait to hear the rest!
Ethei, Hopkins.
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I„azy Lodge.
The Day at Lake Waramaug,
SATURDAY, October fifth, happened to deviate from
the general picnic luck — rainy weather — and was a
glorious, sunshiny day. It is certain that no one
lost any marks in punctuality at breakfast time that
morning. A little excitement always makes Ingleside
punctual.
At nine- thirty every one, laden with all sorts of
wraps, was read}^ to start on the delightful excursion
INGLESIDE LOG. 21
to Lake Waramaug. We packed ourselves three deep
into trie carriages, but, as all were in the best of spirits,
no one minded how many were on one seat. The drive
was over a pretty country road by the side of a rollick-
ing stream they called the Aspetuck. Past comfortable-
looking farm-houses, through patches of woods bright
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On the Shore.
with October colors, over hill and through dale we went,
always seeming to get a little higher up, till at last the
lake came in sight, and then we followed its windings
in and out till we .spied a cunning, little red cottage
covered with vines, 'way out on a point in the water,
and looking very cosey and attractive. We had been
INGLESIDE LOG.
more than an hour on the road, and, although the drive
had been so very pleasant, we were a wee bit glad to
change our cramped positions.
The first thing we did was to explore Lazy Lodge,
amusing ourselves with the various queer contrivances
for comfort in the quaint, little camp cottage, admiring
Watering the Horses.
the "Sweet Sixteen," the "Blackbird," and the "Rip-
ple," which were stowed away in the cellar too carefully
to be taken out and launched for our amusement on so
short a visit, and, of course, deciding that "The Pansy"
was the best boat of all. Then the ' ' old girls ' ' showed
the "new coiners" around the shores of the lake, and
LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
INGLESIDE LOG.
25
took them over the fields. A queer old fisherman was
fishing for black bass just off the point. He seemed
greatly surprised at Mrs. Black's large family. Snap
shots were taken in all directions when least expected.
We cannot resist showing } r ou some of the pictures.
About one o'clock we were summoned to luncheon.
Off the Poixt, T v azy Podge.
It was a most welcome call, for Lake Waramaug is
famous for producing the largest appetite in the smallest
space of time. After eating to our hearts' content, we
had our first fireside meeting. The girls who won the
bracelets last year received them, and the Pansy Scheme
was explained.
26
INGLESIDE LOG.
When the meeting had adjourned we took several
pictures of the whole school, and the rest of the after-
noon was spent in looking at little mementos left by
people who had been at the Iyodge before, in listening
to improbable fish stories, throwing stones in the water
and wandering over the sand. As usual, the devoted
The Whole Party.
Cuckoos were seen in company. Here is a picture of
them — teachers and all. We remember that some brave
and valiant young ladies who went across the fields
saw a little animal that looked like a large rat. They
broke ranks and fled; no well-trained army could have
done better in retreating. Their fears were dispelled
INGLESIDE LOG.
27
when, glancing over their shoulders, they saw the animal
going in the opposite direction with the unmistakable
hop of a rabbit. Echo asks, ' ' Where were the ( tappfer
Stief mutterchen ' ? "
All too soon the signal was given for the return, and
with many regrets we climbed into our respective car-
The Cuckoo Family.
riages and turned the horses' heads homeward. We
drove around the lake to lengthen the trip and to see
the scenery, which was most beautiful. How we enjoyed
it all !
Songs and calls resounded from the different loads as
we rattled down the valley. Surely, "a merry heart
doeth good like a medicine," for those who started out
28
INGLESIDE LOG.
feeling a trifle homesick, on this, their first Saturday at
school, returned completely cured.
Then came Ingleside, and dinner. After dinner we
tried dancing, but we were too tired to dance long ; so,
like sensible girls, we betook ourselves to our beds and
dreamed the whole, happy day over again.
Margaret No yes.
The Story of November,
h
"That time of year thou may'st in me be-
hold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do
hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the
cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet
birds sang."
• Shakespeare.
TO call this past month at
Ingleside ' ' Bleak Novem-
ber ' ' would be giving it a
very inappropriate title, for not
alone the weather but proceed-
ings in general have been so
bright and cheerful, that they
now afford an overwhelming
fe number of subjects for discus-
sion.
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>\ov-£vv&ex
3 o INGLESIDE LOG.
First a bean-bag party. Do any of you know what
this is? Perhaps Mrs. Hunt would tell you if you
don't. This was what the Studios gave one Friday
night as a heading for a novel entertainment.
Then came Cora and her Paris gowns. Rather, I
should say, a great number of Paris clothes arrived,
and with them Cora. The Studio was overwhelming
in its welcome on that memorable night ; still, we
marvel that such dainty articles could bear the hand-
ling they received and wonder if everything from Paris
can equal them in durability.
The Golf Club has made itself very important this
month by placing high in the Bindestrich a private
bulletin board, and also by a tournament, unfinished,
it is true, but that is accounted for by the enforced
absence of a number of the participants.
There has been no prettier event at Ingleside for
many a day, than the little French tea which the ener-
getic Hallites gave on the evening before vacation.
Spirits rose high that night over ' ' the cup which
cheers," and the world looked to all of us couleur
de rose. For, is there any Wednesday in the year
like that ever-cherished-and-looked-forward-to-Wednes-
day before Thanksgiving? To some this year it was a
red-letter day, indeed, for it brought that first visit
home after the first experience of life in boarding-
school. Ah, girls ! not one of us can ever forget
that strange delight ; no future visit can be quite the
same.
For us poor mortals who remained behind, the day
INGLE SIDE LOG. 31
will also be sweet to memory, associated with numerous
nd delicious packages of candy.
We girls had prided ourselves on the fact that we
were able to make a good, fine noise when occasion
required ; and, frequently, we had been mournfully re-
minded, when occasion did not require ; but that even-
ing on the jolly hay-ride, which must not be forgotten,
we really lost confidence in our vaunted powers, for
Miss Warner failed to answer to our call —
1 ' Wake the echoes far and wide !
Pansies ! Pansies ! Ingleside ! ' '
rang again and again on the clear moonlit air. In
vain ! The echoes and Miss Warner were alike so deep
in slumber that nothing short of a pitcher of ice-water
would have aroused them.
Thanksgiving Day with us was celebrated, first, by
the change of rising hour from 8 to 8.30 — an unusual
luxury ! Second, by the usual sumptuous repast at
two o'clock; and, third, by a visit to Mr. Everest's
school, where we were beautifully entertained by the
Rectory boys till the hour of eleven P. M.
Various incidents recur as we look back over the
month. Tramp's death leaves a vacancy here that will
not soon be filled. ( In view of various law suits, not
wholly unconnected with sheep killing, in which Mrs.
Black is interested pr. force, she thinks it very likely
the vacancy will long remain.) Poor Tramp ! We wish
your memory were not thus tarnished by stories which
are false, ive know.
One day while a number of us were walking along
32
INGLESIDE LOG.
an unfrequented road about four miles from the village,
we espied in the distance a harmless-looking personage,
apparently deeply absorbed in the exciting occupation
of cutting down trees and tearing up innocent plants
and shrubs. Quietly concealing ourselves behind a
stone wall we watched the operation for a while, then
bobbing up from our hiding place, we made violent
efforts to attract his attention. Botany was too engross-
ing, and part and parcel of the stone wall we might
have been, so utterly absorbed was he by the work in
INGLESIDE LOG.
33
hand. For once, we girls had to be content to be
ignored. I leave it to be imagined who this mysteri-
ous personage may have been.
And now I am about to describe an unusual scene
at Ingleside. It goes without saying that it occurred
during the vacation. Miss Boyer's Attic Studio occu-
A Corner in the Attic Studio.
pied by "the girls who staid" ! Afternoon, or rather
evening tea, was it? served by these damsels under the
wing of the favorite art teacher, in dainty, Dresden
cups, amid art treasures from the Orient and Japan ;
and, strangest of all, served to a party of young men !
34 INGLESIDE LOG.
A Yale student, one of the village beaux ! ! But let
the particulars remain a mystery forever ! The fact is
a fact, impossible though it may seem ! We did not go
home for Thanksgiving, girls ; but this is a world of
compensation !
To some of us the most important event of this
month was Confirmation, which was administered in
the little church, our little church, at Evensong, No-
vember twenty- fourth. The kneeling girls, the grand
old Bishop of the Diocese, the quiet twilight of an
Indian Summer day and the beautiful confirmation
office. This is our sweetest November memory.
A. Florence Browning.
Cheese Roasting.
YOU may ask, " What is a Cheese Roast? " but, if you
were lucky enough to be a Cuckoo, you would well
know.
Sometimes, on Saturday afternoons, we gather 'round
the little stove in Miss Warner's pleasant room, and
then the fun begins. One girl toasts crackers in a long-
handled toaster, which Miss Boyer has kindly donated,
while another melts, that is to say "roasts," the cheese
in a tin spoon. When it gets bubbly and frothy it
is poured over the crackers, and then, you may be
sure, we are none too slow in helping ourselves to the
goodies.
Next, perhaps, Miss Hunt produces her palmistry
book and tells our fortunes ; sometimes dampening our
^z^?=: spirits, but more often making our
eyes "big out" with the wonders
which the future has in store for us.
36 INGLESIDE LOG.
Then various games, such as "Pig," "Old Maid"
and ' ' I Doubt You, ' ' are played, amid much laughter
and fun. Cuckoos know how to laugh.
Thus we spend many happy afternoons in ' ' Cheese
Roasting. ' '
Mildred Thorpe.
Thanksgiving: Vacation.
THE Wednesday morning came, at length, with all the
bustle that a vacation morning generally brings. !
Before eight o'clock the girls had rushed into the
dining-room, all eager to commence the last meal they
would have at Ingleside for a number of days. It
seemed to the ' ' going ones " as if the time would never
pass ; but we that were to stay thought it flew, and nine
o'clock came all too soon.
If any one had passed Ingleside at that moment, they
would have observed entirely different expressions on the
faces of the girls going down Terrace Place and those
left standing on the "Hall" piazza. When the lucky
ones had turned the corner, a number of us found our
way up the street to the new Rectory.
We watched the train come around the foot of the
mountain and speed on to the crowd of waiting ones.
Some of the smoke from the locomotive got in our eyes
and made the tears come (at least, we think it was
smoke) ; but it did not take long to brush them away ;
and with brave hearts and a bold determination to have a
good time, we came back to our own pleasures.
38
INGLESIDE LOG.
All of us moved into the ' ' Hall ' ' in order to be to-
gether. If the owners of the different rooms, in that
house — no, even the spirits of the owners — could have
looked in upon their abiding places, I fear their physiog-
nomies would have been very much distorted.
Those Who Staid.
Mrs. Hunt and her order marks were no longer feared.
We could hardly find a place to lay our possessions, there
was so much candy and jam and other good things
about. To make a rough estimate, we consumed in those
four days, candy to the amount of — well, we won't say,
after all. We always believe in telling the truth, and
therefore hesitate to record anything that may sound
\
%
LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
1NGLESWE LOG. 41
like a Munchausen statement. It took us a long time
to make the estimate, anyway, and we would not vouch
for its being exact, had we not conquered harder problems
in simultaneous quadratic equations for Mr. Draper. Be-
sides, we have several witnesses — not only witnesses but
partakers — to verify the facts.
One girl had a box of goodies from home, and it only
remains to add that she found no difficulty in disposing
of the delicious contents. A good many of you already
know what a box of good things is to school girls.
Wednesday evening was clear and bright and cold.
Some one proposed a straw ride, to which we all con-
sented, and which we all enjoyed immensely. The moon
shone brightly, and Harvard and Yale would have been
pleased to have found so many ardent admirers. The
legendary and famous raccoon was there, in song, and
John Brown's Body w^s "mtMcally dissected with great
ardor. When we canie back we were, glad enough to get
into bed, for we felt a little cramped in the knees, and
a trifle hoarse in the voice.
The next day was Thanksgiving. We amused our-
selves in the morning by taking bicycle tours ; but that
pleasure was nothing compared to the enjoyment that
came later in the Thanksgiving Dinner. We will not
make your mouths water by attempting to enumerate
the delicious things we enjoyed. We will simply say,
' ' A turkey is a turkey the world over. ' '
Hardly had we risen from our sumptuous repast than
it was time to think of getting ready for the dance !
What, dance? Why, yes; we must explain, must we
42 INGLESIDE LOG.
not ? Well, Mr. Everest invited all the remaining Ingle-
side rs to come up to the Rectory School, Thanksgiving
night. We started, but had not gone very far when
the spring, or that mysterious part of a vehicle that is
forever breaking, broke. We had to wait until another
carriage could be procured, which did not take long,
and after many jogglings and jostlings, we arrived safely.
We have no doubt however, that the Rectory boys would
have found us very cool companions, had we been obliged
to have gone much farther in the falling snow. We
played a number of exciting games and had great fun
dancing. A little later in the evening we enjoyed a
delicious supper. The time came all too soon to say
" good night ; " but after we had said it, we packed our-
selves into the " Bus " and came home.
The next day, Friday, was spent in nothing more ex-
citing than the taking of bicycle trips and eating candy,
for you have probably seen by my statements thus far
that we had our greatest fun in the evening. Many
eager faces watched out of the windows of the Art room,
about eight P. M., for the appearance of the Rectory
school that we had invited down to call. Alas ! only
several of the teachers and no Rectory boys rewarded the
anxious watching eyes. Nevertheless, the evening was
pleasantly spent.
Saturday, our last day, we spent playing Golf and
getting ready for the return of the girls.
In the evening, after they had come, we re- enjoyed
ourselves by telling and being told of the good times each
one had. We could not see but what we had had as
INGLESIDE LOG. 43
much fun as they, and we went to bed with the satis-
faction that our share had been these good times, and
there were only four weeks to Christmas, anyway, when
we were going home, too; for "all things come 'round
to him who will but wait."
Sophik BouCHKR.
it
Unsere Klassenblume.
1896.
DIE Wasserlilie auf dunklem See
Erwahlten wir zum Zeichen.
Ks ist der dunkle, tiefe See
Dem I^eben zu vergleichen.
Sie schwimmt so rein und silberweiss
Auf ihrer dunklen Tiefe,
Als ob in ihr fiir alle Zeit
Der Unschuld Seele schliefe.
Edith Durand Bennett.
The Story of December.
' ' The Winter time,
With snow and rime
Has sprung from sunburnt
Autumn's breast.
And in her lap
She holds, mayhap,
A Spring of all the Springs
the best. ' '
DECEMBER has not
sustained his repu-
tation this year; he started
out well, but soon forgot
his mission, and, when the
twenty- fifth came 'round,
the ground was still bare,
and Santa Claus was obliged
to exchange his sleigh for
a bicycle.
%
tx
INGLESIDE LOG. 45
We of '96 remember the December of a year ago,
when a glorious toboggan slide was the attraction at
Hickory Hearth. Every afternoon found us there
through the last days of December and through January
and February as well, till there came a sad day when
an accident befell the bravest, sweetest of us all. Per-
haps it is as well that no snow came this year. To
some of us, tobogganing would have been sad.
First and foremost among the happenings of this
month we should record the visit of the Elocutionist,
Jean Stuart Brown. Her delightful rendering of "The
Winter's Tale" held us spellbound, and she so inspired
us with the spirit of dramatic art, that our various
copies of Shakespeare are, in consequence, somewhat
the worse for wear.
To rival this charming entertainment, Dr. Henry M.
Field, the noted Traveler, the next week conducted us,
in two short hours, through the heavy mists of Eng-
land, and over the burning sands of the African deserts
to the Indian Isles ; now giving us a glimpse of gay
Paris, and then taking us to the dense and gloomy
jungles of India. Could this kindly gentleman realize
the enthusiasm aroused by his description of life in
regions strange and new to most of his listeners, and
the influence of his charming personality during the
half hour when he gave all an .opportunity to . grasp
-his hand, we are sure he would feel repaid for his night
spent at Ingleside. .' ► '
Though the traditional snowbanks and toboggan
pleasures have . failed _ us, ; Decernber . has been most
4 6
INGLESIDE LOG.
generous in providing two weeks of unequalled skating,
and the new skating pond — our exclusive property — has
been a delight indeed. Had you been on Terrace Place
almost any cold afternoon you might have beheld a line
of twenty or more girls, headed by Mr. Draper, start-
A Professor Might Have Been Seen.
ing merrily for the skating pond. The melancholy
mien of our popular Professor of Athletics bespoke at
times his prospect of clamping innumerable pairs of
unmanageable skates, to say nothing of kneeling in an
unecclesiastical manner on the coldest kind of ice while
INGLESIDE LOG. 47
he endeavored to make skating possible to some luck-
less maiden. Can we ever sufficiently appreciate his
unselfish kindness?
Just here let me mention a little episode of Decem-
ber, interesting only to a chosen few, to be sure.
Dainty sandwiches, festooned with blue ribbons, are
not soon to be forgotten. Are they, Gussie?
The next event of excitement appeared to us in the
shape of a final examination for the members of the
Oriental and Greek History Classes. There is lots of
fun at Ingleside, but, strange as it may seem, study
interrupts our recreation at times !
Girls might have been seen this week wandering
from house to house mumbling incoherently the long
lists of Babylonian kings and chanting in a dreary
monotone the names of the Greek Gods and Goddesses,
while in the foreground a calm and dignified professor
often stood, quietly calculating the average which this
sort of frantic stud)' would be likely to attain. Enough
about examinations ; truly I am trespassing on the
rights of February.
The much looked forward to twenty-first arrived at
last and found us all in the wildest state of anticipa-
tion. No bitter tears were shed at parting but various
promises made by all to write to ever)- girl in school
as soon as home was reached. Many of these promises,
I regret to say, were forgotten before we arrived in
New York.
Vacation pleasures come now and 1113- pen is power-
less. No longer is one story the story of us all. How
48 INGLESIDE LOG.
many homes were happier because of our return ! And
oh ! how happy were we because of the home holiday !
To all of us came the blessed Christ mastide. The
old year slipped into the past and we were at Ingleside
again. Ninety-six had begun its history.
Iyll^IJAN N. Underhill.
Tobogganing in '95.
WE ' VK heard of deadly Trolleys ;
We 've heard of Strikes, besides ;
We 've heard of many follies,
But we 've felt Toboggan Slides.
We 've longed to cross the Ocean
And Northern Seas explore,
To make a great commotion
By feats ne'er done before,
5o
INGLE SIDE LOG.
But when we least expect it,
Unpitying Fate decides —
Oh ! who would dare neglect it,
And shun Toboggan Slides?
\^ -«C ™f ^Tj* *" f
s fwlBi*
^ I'-iulf^ 1 8
, ■ ,\, • ' *' - -i si
The Faculty with us we took —
Are any within hearing ?
We trust ' ' the Saints ' ' will overlook
Their faculty for steering !
INGL ESIDE L OG.
In Algebra our courage wanes,
In History we 're dense ;
But the dullest of us has more brains
Than to jump a high board fence.
Amid this great commotion
Some beauty has been lost,
Some powers of locomotion.
Oh ! who shall count the cost ?
We started out strong-hearted,
We started out most brave ;
We started and — we parted —
' ' Glory leads but to the grave ! ' '
We came back sadder, wiser ;
We came back, black- and- blue ;
We 've left the sport of " seeing stars,'
Ye lucky ones, to you !
When melted are the snow and ice,
And this fun is but a dream,
For an amusement safe and nice
We '11 form a Foot-ball Team !
Two Victims :
H. A. H., '95.
E. W., '93-
Bon Voyage.
The Travel Class.
ONE of the pleasant memories of our Hickory Hearth
Winter will always be the experiences of the Travel
Class.
Fancy a circle of girls in front of the big stone fire-
place, and clustered about the hearth. The wind is
howling furiously outside, and the ground is white with
snow ; but in spite of wind and storm we are alwaj^s
ready for travel. The popular Professor is "in the chair, ' '
and, with an enthusiasm and interest which the future
may never bring, we start on our ocean voyage.
INGLESIDE LOG. 53
An evening has been already spent in animated dis-
cussion as to the necessary provision for our comfort on
the trip. The Professor has listened with an expression
of despair on his benevolent countenance, as the list,
longer and longer grown to accommodate the various
whims of the feminine mind, seems almost beyond the
capacity of the most capacious Cunard Steamer. Pre-
ventives of sea- sickness have been discussed at length,
and the circle about the hearthstone has really almost
felt the pitching and tossing of the vessel, and imagined
that the splash of the giant waves was in their ears.
Evening after evening, with Baedecker as our text
book, we have traveled from place to place. English
lanes and hedges have become familiar objects, as we
have talked them over with the various photographs and
Mrs. Black's never- failing codacs in our hands.
We have sat where Shakespeare sat, literally changing
places on the old Shakespeare chest, the treasure of
Hickory Hearth, while we have fancied ourselves in
Stratford-on-Avon ; the wonders of London, Westminster,
St. Paul, Hyde Park, have been presented, one by one,
and the London streets, even the best chop-houses and
the most desirable shops have been discussed. We have
visited the " land-o' -cakes," and have mused over the
stones where Scott wrote ' ' The Lay of the Last Minstrel, ' '
in the shadow of Melrose Abbey, and after visiting Ab-
botsford have stood beside his tomb at Dryburg.
Occasionally friends from the village have come in,
to enjoy the beauties of the old world with us, bringing
their personal experience, and incidents of their own
54 INGLESIDE LOG.
travel to make our study more real. "What I did last
Summer when abroad ' ' has been on the lips of many of
the fortunate girls of the class, and Mabel and Cora have
lived over again their vacation pleasures for our amuse-
ment. No visitor has been so thoroughly appreciated,
so warmly welcomed as Miss Boyer. Her years of life
abroad, her art study, her store of knowledge, her riches
in photographs and prints have all been at our service ;
perhaps what has helped us most, has been her real
interest in our improvement, her real liking for the girls
who so really like her. Surely, we owe her a debt of
gratitude for extricating us, by means of her elaborate
explanations and her pictures of the various cathedrals,
from the terrible conglomeration of Byzantine Romanesque
Gothic and Renaissance Architecture, in which we seemed
hopelessly involved.
The days of the Travel Class are over now, and the
Baedeckers are thrown aside. The fire has burned out
on the hospitable hearthstone, and our imaginary journey -
ings are done.
In the future we may travel far and wide ; but, surely,
no good luck, in the days to come, can bring us pleasures
without annoyances, comforts without inconveniences,
such a jolly company as we were on our imaginary trip,
nor a guide so wise and kind as our Professor.
May Hewitt.
The Story of January.
" Janus am I, oldest of potentates !
Forward I look and backward, and below.
I count — as god of avenues and gates —
The years that through my portals come and go.
I block the roads and drift the fields with snow.
I chase the wild fowl from the frozen fen ;
My frosts congeal the rivers in their flow,
My fires light up the hearths and hearts of men."
— Longfellow.
JANUARY, usually shuddered and frowned at, was
welcomed by all Ingleside, for now came the chance
for skating sleighing and other sports, which only
midwinter can afford.
56 INGLESIDE LOG.
No sooner had we returned from our respective homes
with thoughts of a hard term and long examinations,
than fine weather came ; and, with the storms, all our
fears departed.
\Ve had resolved to have a good time ; but even had
we made no such resolutions, how could we resist the
fun, — especially when a skating -pond was provided,
sacred to Ingleside. We could now glory in the invigo-
rating exercise. Immediately every one purchased a stick
for "Hockey , " and one by one timid girls grew braver
and tried the ice for the first time. Our pond, with all
its sweet seclusion, is only over the river, where Guard-
ing Mountain protects us from the heartless winds of
Winter. Probably many of you girls have never thought
that, years ago, savages inhabited this very spot. Here
old Waramaug stationed his guard on the mountain above
the pond, and the forts of the Scatacook tribe covered
the ridge called Fort Hill, which circles around the plain
below. Sometimes we fancied the Indians would have
thought us members of their tribe, had they returned to
claim their own. Certainly, Golf capes are more civilized
than gaudy blankets ; but our shrieks and gesticulations
might have been mistaken for the savage war-whoop,
and two of our maidens indulged in a language which
could easily have passed for the ancient Scatacook.
Ivovely as the skating was to us all, there was one un-
fortunate, Miss Skillin, who was deprived of its pleasures
for awhile by illness. This is particularly to be noticed
because it was her first absence from school duties for
five years. Oh ! that we could boast of such a record !
INGLESIDE LOG. 57
Ingleside not only partook of out-door sports, but also
enjoyed the month in many other equally notable ways.
One night the ' ' Cuckoos ' ' mysteriously invited us all
to a Salmagundi party in the Drill Room. As I have men-
tioned by whom we were invited, it is needless to add
any more. We all know the " Cuckoos' " ability in the
way of entertaining. One night, cries of delight were
heard from the old, old girls, and upon inquiry we
learned that ' ' Needles ' ' was coming with her sister
" Buttons." Of course we had no chance of seeing
' ' Needles ' ' that evening, as she was claimed immediately
by the girls who knew her. At Saturday's Fireside we
were all introduced. ' ' Buttons, ' ' we learned, was to
make her home with Mrs. Black at Hickory Hearth for
the year.
Saturdays were received with especial delight this
month, for the Cake Sales were renewed. Poor Mother
Hunt was besieged with questions and orders on such
occasions. Sometimes the orders exceeded the number
of cakes, and, to our dismay, we were obliged to wait
until the next sale.
I shall end the month with the Cobweb Party, whose
complex construction reminded us the next day (by stiff
limbs) that it was indeed a snare. The School and Drill
Rooms were open to the partakers, who assembled there at
seven o'clock. The lassies, in their gymnastic suits, were
certainly ready for work. At first, the task of unwinding
so many strings was discouraging ; but after many con-
tortions, and after twisting ourselves into unheard of
postures, we succeeded and were rewarded by a prize
5 8 INGLESIDE LOG.
found at the end of each string. Augusta was quick
enough to unravel her web first, and received an extra
prize for her adroitness. Don't think for a moment by
all this that January ended in a tangle. Indeed, I think
our smoothest and nicest times came in this month. To
be sure, there were a few knotted brows, when thoughts
of February examinations would thrust themselves upon
us; but — that 's another story.
Edwina Hammond.
LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
The Salmagundi Party.
ONE day last Winter, the Cuckoos, who are never
behind in anything, decided that it was their turn
to entertain the girls. So, after much discussion,
we gave a Salmagundi Party.
Saturday morning we chose the
prizes. The first prize was a little silver
candlestick ; the second, a pin tray ; and
the booby prize, a little girl playing with
a goose.
, In theaftprhooitai'the Drill Room was
decorated with all sorts of things, some
pretty and some funny, for, you know,
"Salmagundi" means odds and ends.
The girls, who were writing letters down-
stairs, could hear us talking, but they
did not see anything until evening.
Then all the girls were present. Mr.
and Mrs. Draper and the post-graduates
came too.
There were seven
tables, one for each
Cuckoo. Each was dif-
ferent. At one you tried
62 INGLESIDE LOG.
to draw a pig with your eyes shut. At the others were
dominoes, cards, jackstraws, and tiddle -de -winks. It
was very funny to watch Mr. Draper at the table where
they were threading needles. He did not seem to be
used to it.
When the games were over, we were very glad to
give the prizes to two of the ' ' Studios ; ' ' but we were
even more glad when we saw one of the seniors take the
booby prize. Do you wonder why ?
Elsie Jones.
^^^^
At the Organ.
IN the quiet little chancel
Vaulted rafters echo fair,
While the music softly, sweetly
Floats upon the mellow air.
Through the window streams the sunlight
O'er a girlish figure there,
Turning with its brilliant color
Into gold her shining hair.
Thus she sits there at the organ,
Fingers straying o'er the keys —
Keys that answer to her bidding
With the sweetest melodies.
May her own life- song re-echo
These sweet strains from discords free,
And the minor chords that enter
But complete the harmony.
Laura M. Post.
LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
XA.Y
H
a- 73.
The Story of February,
1 ' February makes a bridge-? and March breaks it. ' '
— Herbert.
ALTHOUGH, out of doors, this month was one of the
most dismal and stormy we have seen, who has ever
heard of such gaieties as occurred within, during
the twenty-eight days that constituted February?
On the evening of the first, the Golf Club gave a
long-to-be remembered "Minstrel Show," which every-
one said was a great success, even those who took part ;
and who should know better than they ? The entertain-
ment consisted of songs and jokes and stories, all the
very latest, the songs being composed by a few gifted
ones of the Club.
Two or three days later, we had the first sleigh-ride of
the season, and even if the snow was neither so clean
INGLESIDE LOG.
nor so plentiful as it might have been, still the ride was
a jolly one. We really did feel sorry for the horses when
we went through that well-known covered bridge ; but
were we not amply repaid for doing so, by the sudden
appearance of two of our friends, taking their usual
afternoon drive ? No need to say how glad they were to
see us.
"A Stray Cuckoo in The First Snow."
Then came a day when there was much excited
whispering among the "Pansies," and, that night, two
happy, but dreadfully frightened girls, Kop and Hattie,
were welcomed into the Pans} 7 Garten, with all the
mysteries of initiation. No one had need to ask how
they were treated, for did they not appear at breakfast
INGLESIDE LOG.
67
the following morning, with court - plaster enough to
satisfy the outside world, and thumping headaches for
their own inner gratification?
But, as the saying goes, "The bitter with the sweet."
Before we realized it, half-yearly "Exams" were upon
us. Why is it that the Faculty always seem to delight in
prolonging our agony of suspense at such times, and
The Old Wigwam.
refuse to tell us our marks until the last paper has been
handed in, " the last gun fired ? ' ' This February proved
no exception to the general rule, and in one of the
anxious intervals between " Exams," we tried to satisfy
ourselves by writing the following, a kind of prophetic
honor roll, on the School Room board,
68
INGLESIDE LOG.
ROLL OF HONOR.
Distinguished.
Miss Crib,
Miss Blank,
Miss Some One,
Miss Brains.
Miss De Linquent,
Miss A. Flat,
Miss C. Sharp,
Music.
Vocai,.
Chorus.
Satisfactory.
Miss Hope Fulle,
Miss Pass Able,
Miss Al Most,
Miss Per Haps,
Miss May Bee.
Miss Try Again.
Miss B. Natural,
Miss L. Acci. Dental.
The Misses Holler and Screech.
February Twenty-second.
We must here say, when the reports were finally read,
the record was one of the best Ingleside has ever known.
INGLESIDE LOG.
69
The old Wigwam dear to the old girls disappeared
this month, but is to reappear soon on Hickory Hearth.
Then hurrah for bowling parties and tournaments !
On the evening of Saint Valentine's Day came the
all-important and never-to-be-forgotten dance. But the
description of that I will leave to another maiden, who
enjoyed herself beyond words.
Surely one would suppose that by this time, each and
every girl must have been tired out. Nevertheless, the
next afternoon, the "Halls" and "Studios" turned out
in gay array to receive their guests of the previous eve-
ning, and many dark- coated figures of the other sex were
to be seen strolling about Terrace Place, an unusual event
in the annals of Ingleside.
Shortly after, Lent began. So the 2 2d passed quietly.
With the exception of the Half- Yearly Musicale, and
the Seniors' expedition, a whole day spent with Miss
Boyer, at the Metropolitan Museum in New York, nothing
happened to disturb the tranquillity of those last few
February days.
Harriet McNeil.
The Valentine Dance.
WE had been anticipating February fourteenth with
much the same ardor that the small boy looks
forward to the Fourth of July ; and when the
day finally came, our joy knew no bounds.
Immediately after school "The Committee," and you
know what a wonderful committee the I. E. C. always is,
went to work in the Drill Room.
The demand for step-ladders, scissors and twine far
exceeded. the supply; girls were here, there and every-
where — all talking at once. Is n't it f unny *how girls
always talk at once during such a time?
The decorations were mainly in honor of the day, and
hearts great and small were waiting to be placed. We
think we may safely say that no one of that committee
ever had so many hearts at her feet before. The ceilings
gradually took on the gay coloring, and, decked in the
red- and- white, presented a most festive appearance;
while the obnoxious dumb-bells and Indian clubs hid
themselves away behind masses of evergreens.
INGLES WE LOG. fi
Any one seeing the school- room could never have
imagined what it really was. All the big tables had been
removed to give room for dancing. Yale flags, Prince-
ton flags, and Harvard flags hung on the walls, and
through the kindness of the owner of the Attic Studio,
we filled up mantels and shelves most artistically. One
cast, being hailed with cheers, occupied the place of
honor. It was a tiger to gladden the hearts of the
Princeton men. To be sure, some one was unkind
enough to say that it was really a lion — but whether it
was or whether it was n't, matters not. It was a tiger
that evening. If it wanted to be a lion afterwards,
no one had any objections. But how hard we did work
to get it all done ! So hard, that finally Mother Hunt
insisted upon our taking some rest, and we went some-
what reluctantly to our rooms.
The Dance really began at eight o'clock ; but the
' ' Ushers ' ' were in the Drill Room long before, to do their
duty by any one who might come earlier. Right here we
want to say that those ushers feel as if their names should
be handed down to future generations in capital letters.
For was n't it dreadful to catch those masculine names,
and was n't it dreadful, in the confusion, to remember
them long enough to deliver to Mrs. Black and the wait-
ing seniors, and was n't it dreadful if they did once in
a while forget? And to think, despite it all the}' covered
themselves with glory, certainly merits a reward.
After dancing for quite a while, we began to wend
our way to the dining-room, where real St. Valentine's
Day refreshments were served. Dainty little hearts
72 INGLESIDE LOG.
pierced with arrows was the predominating shape of the
cakes and ices.
We were kindly allowed the use of the Attic Studio ;
but as no dancing was done up there, the precious casts
are still intact.
The hour of eleven soon came.
We had hung a flag over the face of the school-room
clock, and some one very cutely asked if we were
' ' flagging Father Time ; ' ' but although that may have
been our purpose, it failed in its undertaking, and eleven
only seemed to come the sooner, — the time to say adieu.
We felt ourselves quite incapable of thanking Mrs.
Black sufficiently for one of the most delightful evenings
in our school life.
Jankt Knap.
Tea in the Attic Studio.
NK
Saturday Miss Boyer in-
vited all the Cuckoos to
take afternoon tea in the
Attic Studio. If you have
ever been fortunate enough
to visit this our pleasantest
class-room at Ingleside, you
wiU'remember the low door-
way at the head of the
stairs. looking through
this, as we entered, what
74 INGLESIDE LOG.
ci.d-.cl.
should greet our eyes but a little teapot steaming away;
and, better still, a large chocolate cake bought especially
for us at the cake sale.
As you may suppose, we were not slow to enjoy this
repast ; and, after we had finished, we wandered around
the room to our heart's content, all examining Miss
Boyer's pretty things.
The Art Room is decorated with many curious
Japanese vases, and teapots of all sizes and shapes ;
little figures carved in ivory, and queer lamps, until
one would almost think oneself in Japan instead of at
Ingleside. The funniest of all were two little Japanese
dolls whom the girls have called, for fun, "Paul
1NGLESIDE LOG.
75
and Virginia." They are supposed to squeak, but
have been handled so much by meddlesome fingers,
that I am afraid they have lost their
voices.
~^- y _ Miss Boyer has also many dainty
cups and saucers. Then, there is an
-^ / old lamp used long ago by the ancient
^ Romans, and little wooden shoes such
as the Dutch wear.
We saw them all; and then,
as good things must come to
an end, it was time at last for us
to say good-bye ; but
every one agreed that
tea tastes better in the
Attic Studio than any-
where else.
HiaEN P. Muujken.
KtUS
The Robin— '96.
The Robin,
AN impartial judge would not hesitate long in pro-
nouncing the Robin, our Senior Cottage, a most
picturesque and ideal little home for "five little
robins. " So prettily situated as it is, a little farther up
Terrace Place than the other houses, it commands a fine
view of the neighboring cottages. The inmates being
Seniors, and, of course, gifted with wonderful judg-
ment, consider it far superior to any of the others. From
the balcony which graces the front, the Seniors deign
now and then, to look down on the world at large, who
gaze upward with envy in their hearts. We must not
INGLESIDE LOG. 77
forget a late addition to our circle, a little maltese kit-
ten, which goes by the name of "Ninety-six." Every
afternoon it delights us by taking its ' ' essential exer-
cise" on the aforesaid balcony.
Ours is a versatile house, musical as well as intel-
lectual. It has a noted songstress who warbles ' ' from
early morn till dewy eve." Her repertoire consists of
— well, why bother to record. Her maxim is, "old
things are best."
Then, too, we have a gifted pianist, who, when study
hour is over, rings forth from out the grand piano
melodious sounds, while playing her well-known and
familiar " 518."
But our most gifted member is a "Special," who,
on special occasions, cheers us on to the goal of our
ambition by her efforts in oratory ; and often, if the
truth be known, may be discovered going into raptures
over her many (?) charms, and gesticulating wildly be-
fore her hand-mirror. This fair maiden has a room-mate,
she of the soft and juicy voice. Every morning she is
heard singing, "Where is dat 'ittle tat."
Last, but not least, comes our intellectual President,
who regards little "Ninety-six" with disdain, and is
continually quoting, " Distance lends enchantment to
the view." Nevertheless, we often find her wasting her
time on him. We hope he appreciates the honor, com-
ing, as it does, from a great musician whose rhapsodies
are sometimes interrupted by sounds from above.
At times our house has presented the appearance of
a chemical laboratory, for the three "Regulars" are
78 INGLESIDE LOG.
wont to perform dangerous experiments, much to the
distress of the "Specials," who flee in terror when
' ' chemicals ' ' are mentioned.
How quickly the weeks have gone to the privileged
Seniors ! Perhaps the time has been aided in its flight
by our manifold privileges. Nearly every afternoon has
found us returning from Borelli's, laden with bulging
paper bags which have excited the envy of those out
for "essential exercise."
Oh ! these happy days ! When we have separated,
perhaps never to meet again, shall we not, in all the
years to come, think with a quickening of the heart of
our dear old cottage, and the many joyous days spent
together under its roof ; when in the midst of the hard
study which ever devolves upon a Senior, we found
some hours in which to be gay and have jolly, funny
times. When we return as Alumnae we will stand on
the little porch, and with thoughts of the old times
and the old happy days surging through our hearts, the
familiar call ringing in our ears, we shall forget that
" girlhood" is behind us, and, with one unanimous voice,
shout as in bygone days :
O-WB-WI-WOW
A-LA-KA-ZU-KI-ZOW
IP-SIDI-I-KI
PLUMB-BUMB-YI-DI
HA-HA-YI-HO
PEDA-BALOO-BAIvEE
RA-RE-RO-RIX
RING-CHING-CHANG
EIGHTEEN-NINETY-SIX
ZIP-BOOM-BANG !
4M«
Story of March,
"With rushing winds and gloomy
skies
The dark and stubborn Winter dies ! ' '
— Bayard Taylor.
M
ARCH came in with
a hurricane. Tem-
pests on the sea and
blizzards on land. Ingle-
side nearly blew away,
and even Hick or y
Hearth shivered in the
blast. Spite of all,
the school work went
on, however, and even
' ' essential exercise ' '
received due at-
tention.
m
f
8o
INGLESIDE LOG.
One day we determined to photograph ourselves in
the wind, and here you see how we had to cling to a tree
to keep still. A big rain storm came and raised the
river till we nearly had a flood ; then the electric light
went out and we wandered about with candles for several
nights, much to Miss Pennybacker's discomfiture and to
. /?
our delight, for "variety is the spice of life," and there
was very little variety at Ingleside this month.
The Faculty, by twos and threes, consulted a great
deal, in a dangerous way, and we believe they concocted
many of their dreadful examination schemes during that
depressing weather,
S2
INGLESIDE LOG,
We played "hop scotch "on the pavement for diver-
sion, polished up our wheels, took codacs — did almost
anything in recreation hours. One fireside meeting
relieved the monotony, but it seems, as we look back on
it, that we did a great deal of " obligatory study,"
because we had to, and a great deal of " optional Lenten
church- going, " because we chose to, and that there is
very little to record.
Wind ! Wind ! Wind is the thing we remember,
and actually we had to cling together like this to get
from house to house.
-*^H^
Marz 1896.
NOCH einmal zieht der Winter ein
Mit seinem Schneegesicht,
Und hiillt die grosse, stille Welt
In einen Mantel dicht.
Im Garten, Baum und Rosenbuseh
'S ist Alles zugeschneit ;
Jedoch, wir Alle wissen wohl,
Der Friihling ist nicht weit.
Susie L,. Nelson.
The Ice Boom.
The Last Snow-Storm,
SILENTLY the snowfiakes fell, and loudly did we girls
rejoice. It had been a "green" winter indeed,
and we felt as if we had been cheated out of our
season's sport — no tobogganing, no snow-balls, no sleigh-
ing ! First, "the river broke up," as they say about
here. There was a big ice boom and we all went to
see it. Then the bitter cold seemed over and the snow
began to fall.
The Cuckoos celebrated the event by erecting a statue
in the front yard. It was much admired as a work of art.
Samson-like, its glory and strength lay in its hair. Its
Apollo-like features and graceful pose showed it to be
INGLESIDE LOG. 85
modeled on Delsarte principles. Only too soon the wind
and rain destroyed it, together with the rest of the snow.
However, before this dire calamity occurred, we re-
ceived an invitation to go sleighing with the Rectory
boys. At half after three o'clock we started : four happy
loads of girls and boys ; and when we were beyond the
limits of the town, we gave vent to our feelings in col-
lege songs, calls, rounds, and the like. These were
accompanied by the tinkling notes of a banjo. A special
feature of the occasion was a "call," made up by us, on
the spur of the moment, in honor of the Rectory. The
compliment was returned by a song in which the Ingle-
side girls figured as heroines. The time passed so quickly,
that before we realized it, our faces were turned home-
ward. But we were consoled for this, in part at least,
by the bags of cakes which appeared, hailed with joy by
everyone.
All too quickly did we find ourselves standing on the
steps at Terrace Place watching the sleighs disappear,
our minds filled with pleasant recollections of the kind-
ness and courtesy of the Rectory boys.
WinnibkIv Clarke.
A.
The
Story of
April,
w , : ,,^ ; .wv.
'"V.-r,
" I,ike an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill ;
The plough-boy is whooping —
anon — anon :
There's joy in the mountains ;
There's life in the fountains ;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing ;
The rain is over and gone."
— Wordsworth.
%*it
INGIyKSIDE saw few showers this April, but she did
not lack flowers, for, on the thirteenth, back came
the Pansies ready for work after the Easter vaca-
tion.
By the grave eyes and serious faces on all sides,
you might have supposed amusements to be out of the
question, for some time at least, but we had scarcely
settled into the customary routine of school life, when
the dancing class finished its course and gave a german
in honor of the occasion. No need to relate further par-
ticulars of this happy event, for are they not chronicled
in another chapter?
With the warm, bright weather came out-of-door
sports. Golf, for a while, held our attention. Then,
as the last traces of snow and frost disappeared, the all-
absorbing bicycle captivated us. We smile now at our
sister cyclists of the city, and that smile grows broader
if they complain of "cobbles," or such small matters.
As long as the New Milford Boulevards do not incline
at an angle greater than forty -five degrees, we are undis-
mayed. A few favored ones prefer their saddles, with
stirrups and a good horse attached, and these assure us
that no one who has not participated in horseback riding
can understand true sport.
The advent of the flowers took us over fields and
into wood on many an expedition. Who will forget the
88
1NGLESIDE LOG.
long ride to Stillson Hill, and the merry party, searching
under leaves and stones, for the first pink arbutus buds ?
Was it a chance happening that the Saint Cecilia
Club was organized just as the birds began to sing?
Although not properly an Ingleside Club, we must
The First Violets.
mention it here, for many of us joined it at the very
first, and heartily have we enjoyed our part in the
choral services on Sunday evenings. As one of our
number said : ' ' We do not doubt that our choir will
soon rival Dudley Buck's."
INGLESIDE LOG.
89
One girl was initiated to the mysteries of the Pansy
Garten this month. To everyone's surprise, she lived
through the ceremonies, although the outsiders thought
she looked rather worn the next morning.
Hickory Hearth has a new inhabitant. A beautiful
white English setter is Mrs. Black's constant companion,
3 ;w:
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and he guards the house on the hill by day and by
night.
There has been a new arrival at Ingleside, also, this
month, one which created a great sensation, — the Senior
Cat ! Concerning his character we may safely say, his
kittenish ways are wholly unaffected, and his dignity is
borrowed from his title, "Ninety-six."
Auck K. Buss.
What We Advertise to Do and What We do Do.
Alyly the year the bulletin boards have borne their
heavy burdens of notices without any signs of being
tired, although they do look slightly worn and
scarred. No matter how pinched they may be for space,
or how disfigured by unintelligible sentences inscribed by
some ambitious Junior, generally relating to recent politi-
cal news — they never register a complaint. The board
belonging to the Golf Club, in particular, looks old and
wrinkled, and frequently its face is covered with lines,
one under the other — for emphasis, you would be told,
if you asked.
Despite any rough handling or slurs they have suffered
the day before, they bear no malice, and every morning
their clean-washed faces greet us with a shine. May they
long hang in their familiar places to remind us all of the
"great" classes of '96, '97 and '98!
* * *
After breakfast, at noon, and even after dinner, we
see a number of girls appear in short skirts, and gaiters
hat look most business-like. If you notice, you will see
INGLESIDE LOG. 9 1
the girls are prepared for a spin on their bicycles ; they
would probably say they were going on their wheels, but
to the uninitiated it looks more as if they were going on
their heads. In an hour, perhaps, they return ; their
faces "kissed by the sun," as the poet has it; very hot,
dusty and out of breath, to be greeted with the inevitable,
' ' Had a good time ? ' ' and to answer with their enthusi-
astic, ' ' Perfectly splendid ! ' '
The hotter and more uncomfortable they look, the
more they seem to have enjoyed themselves. It sets you
nearly wild to watch them moving along so smoothly,
when, very likely, you yourself have never been on a
wheel, or, at the best, can only just keep your balance
by dint of much care and watchfulness.
Probably the happiest girls at "Ingleside," at their
happiest moments, are the riders on their horses, when
they feel their feet in the stirrup and good mounts under
them. As they trot away, all worries as well as pleasures
sink into nothingness — even the envy of the bicyclist
has entirely disappeared by the time they have finished a
first canter.
The girl who can ride neither one nor the other
contents herself with driving. These sports, with tennis,
golf, croquet and walking, make "out-of-doors" at
Ingleside in the Springtime.
Caroline M. Roberts.
New Milford and its Legend,
HAD you chanced, many years ago, to wander amid
the Berkshires, you might have come unexpectedly
upon a little village, hushed to slumber by the
Housatonic's gentle lullaby, and sleeping as peacefully
as when the Indians gave place to the "White Man,"
and stealthily crept away, with tomahawk and scalping-
knife, up the river, where they disappeared into regions
of untrammeled obscurity. But, even as Endymion's
trance - like sleep was gently transmuted into soft
awakening by the fond presence of Diana, so, ere yet
many generations had passed away, there came, from all
parts of this land, many juvenescent Dianas, in the shape
of noisy school girls, the united chorus of whose voices,
and the potent charm of whose commingled grace, soon
electrified with new life this child of Nature, this sleeping
Kndymion, this ancient village, of Weantinaug, this
much-beloved village of New Milford.
Now, through the quaint streets of this same village,
where, after the Aborigines had passed away, Quaker
damsels were wont to meet, and discuss in staid fashion
the sins of their brethren, merry maidens in short skirts
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LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF ILLJHOIS
INGLESIDE LOG.
95
fly about on their silent steeds, much to the terror of the
nervous and uninitiated.
The streets themselves have changed less than the
inhabitants ; for the old Homesteads still stand guard
over the highways and byways. The village green,
All Saints Church and Rectory.
however, has quite outdone its highest anticipations,
surmounted as it is to-day by a new Hotel, which attracts
through these quiet streets many driving parties on their
way to Iyenox and Stockbridge.
Not far from the Hotel is Terrace Place. Pretty cot-
tages border its sloping sidewalks, and here girls from
96 INGLESIDE LOG.
far and near come to pass the school year, and they grow
as fond of the simple Ingleside cottages as though they
were the stone mansion on the Hill.
Now this stone mansion is on that delightful plan of
the old English home, low and long, and overlooks the
landscape for miles around with becoming dignity.
Not far distant, and bearing a likewise foreign aspect,
is the little Church of "All Saints," which stands pro-
nouncing its benediction upon all, and whose chime of
twelve bells rings out holy greetings through the valley.
This valley and these Berkshire Hills have well been
named the Scotland of America, and the Scottish game
of Golf reigns rightly in their midst. Every afternoon,
lasses in their Scotch plaids chase the balls, or stop to
rest and gaze up the Housatonic, as with intricate
windings it finds its way between the towering hills,
and disappears around some distant curve.
The gay world has settled further in among the hills,
leaving to a few, a fortunate few, the beauties of this
peaceful valley.
Throughout the region are sylvan lakes and glens and
waterfalls — "Green Pond," beyond "Monarch Moun-
tain;" "Steep Rock," on the road to Washington ; the
lovely " Ismafloco Island," just above the " Merry all
Bridge," and, further off, Lake Waramaug with its num-
berless attractions. Legends and stories manifold exist
in connection with these localities ; but none of these can
compare with that spot not far from here, endeared to
us not only by its charming scenery, but still more by
the beautiful legend connected therewith. I read its
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OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
IXGLESIDE LOG.
99
name in all your faces, upon all your lips — "Lover's
Leap. ' ' Yes ; the vers' name takes us back to the
Tragedy enacted there so many years ago.
It is twilight. From between the rocky precipices,
towering high, the river comes rushing through its
ISMAFLOCO Island.
narrow gorge, reckless after its dizzy tumble from the
falls above. On one of the ledges stands an Indian
maiden. Her black hair in its straight masses about her
head, vivifies her brilliant eyes and skin. Her hands are
clasped. She is listening. Her ' ' pale-face ' ' lover was
INGLESIDE LOG.
to join her at that hour. If he fails her, she must marry
her father's choice, or meet her death below.
Suddenly from behind, there is a crackling of under-
brush. A moment more, and she is upon her lover's
breast ; his arms are about her. But can he protect her
from her father's wrath?
Alas! no ; for she must marry another, or prepare for
instant death !
But, hark ! Did you not hear it ? That smothered
cry, that sudden splash, and then naught but ominous
silence !
Not even do the rocks of Waramaug utter their
secret, as the river and its victims "sweep onward to
eternity."
Mabet du Pont Colvtn.
i-IBRARY
OF r IE
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
Talking it 'Over!''' '-
Our German.
GAY music, jingling of bells, and happy voices, greeted
the ear as one entered the Drill Room on the eve-
ning of the German, that noted German which
finished the course of dancing lessons given by Professor
Newell.
All the afternoon of the twenty-first and twenty-
second we girls spent in decorating. The stage was
dressed in purple and gold, while the wall opposite bore
the colors of the Rectory School.
104 INGLESIDE LOG.
Mrs. Black kindly furnished us with favors, and they
made a pretty sight, arranged on tables either side of the
stage. Nearby stood plenty of that great aid to dancing
— lemonade.
Thus we were well fortified, and went through many
intricate figures. There was a "Chariot Race," which,
we are sure, rivalled that little affair in Ben-Hur ; there
was "The Greek Cross," the "Mysterious Hand," and
" Blindman's Buff." One of the most amusing was that
called "The Doughnut Figure," where two of the girls
seated themselves on chairs in the center of the room,
while three of the " Rectory s" were led up, and each
presented with a doughnut. At Professor Newell' s sig-
nal, the fun began. The two lucky ones who finished
eating first, secured the waiting maidens.
Iyater in the evening, refreshments were served in
the School Room, and then the dancing class of '96 dis-
solved.
Emma Cooke,
Die Strauss Familie.
A WONDROUS family, Strauss by name,
Have taken their abode
At Ingleside, to win some fame,
And so, I write this ode.
Now, first of all, comes Papa Strauss,
A bright and noble Herr,
With stern command that rules the house
And supercilious air.
Although he 's true to his dear wife,
He likes the governess,
Between the two there 's quite a strife
— But let this matter rest.
Oliver G., the oldest son,
Comes next upon the list,
A brilliant lad and full of fun,
His father's joy in this.
Rebecca Noseworthy, a lass
So straight and tall is she,
And brother Jacob cannot pass,
A jolly lad is he.
io6 INGLESIDE LOG.
Ikey, his father's little pet,
Is our romantic chap,
And never has his father yet
Reproved him with a slap.
And next among this little band
Is Rachel, Mama's joy,
The prettiest child throughout the land,
She never doth annoy.
Their governess, Miss Lobenstein,
So charming and so sweet,
And Papa Strauss thinks she is fine
For she is so " petite. ' '
Then uncle dear, who 's E. Snodgrass,
Has come to stay awhile.
The children think none can surpass
This uncle, for his style.
Then Mama Strauss, last but not least,
Who 's taken to the "wheel,"
But Papa Strauss says she must cease
For she 's too old to ' ' spiel. ' '
Grandpa and Ma are growing old
It 's easy to perceive,
And now this truthful story 's told
Of all, I do believe.
Florence A. Hammond.
i r
I
L
Story
of
May.
" The leaflets will leap
out to greet us.
The crocus spring up-
ward to meet vis.
The trailing arbutus
entreat us
To kiss her pink buds
as we pass."
OVKLY month of May!
We verily received her
with outstretched arms,
and with how
much joy we
io8 INGLESIDE LOG.
welcomed the long- looked- for flowers! And, with the
greatest delight we enjoyed the Spring breezes which
are so fresh and invigorating up here among these dear
old hills.
The first Saturday, much to our surprise and pleas-
ure, we were invited by Mr. Everest to attend the ball
game between the Rector ys and the Gunnery s. Ribbons
of red-and-white and ribbons of red-and-gray were at
a premium. Hat-bands, shoulder knots, and "umbrella
bows," whose ends fluttered bravely in the breeze and
waved defiance at each other, helped, we are sure, to
encourage the players. To the sorrow of many, but to the
infinite joy of a few, the Gunnerys came out victorious.
To crown the excitement of the day, we all went
up to Hickory Hearth to the last Fireside Meeting.
Ruth Knowles won the Banner and the ' ' Fero with
a Kiro," and the applause which followed proved too
much for poor Rex, who fled in terror to the skirts of
his mistress. It was his first Fireside, you know. Per-
haps he thought we were trying to initiate him into
the Pansy Garten.
One day this month, girls sat "with fingers weary
and worn, with eyelids heavy and red," plying not
needles, but pencils, for the Fourth Term Algebra ex-
amination was going on. All the week before, girls
were muttering equations under their breath, and we,
who were free from such harrowing things, grew tired
of " x, y and z," and wished they were truly "un-
known quantities." But the results showed, beyond
doubt, that they were the fruits of zealous labor, and
INGLESIDE LOG. 109
we cheered and rejoiced with maidens who had " met
the enemy ' ' and conquered.
The Golf Tournament that began last Autumn, and
which the Winter winds had interrupted, was finished.
We had Florence Browning to congratulate, for she
took the honors and the natty little caddy bag as a
reward for her strivings.
One evening, about the middle of the month, we
were told the startling news that we might all go to
Washington on the following day, to witness another
ball game between the Rectorys and Gunnerys. It
would be hard to describe the scene which ensued.
Were there many that denied themselves that pleasure?
No, indeed ! It would have taken more than dust and
hot weather to have kept us from going. So the next
day saw five teams of excited girls start from Terrace
Place and wend their way over high hills, through
blinding clouds of dust, to Washington. This game
was much more exciting than the first ; and, after many
INGLESIDE LOG.
a hard struggle, the Gunnery s again gained the day.
We came back just as the sun was setting, and the
beautiful shadows on the hills grew deeper and deeper,
until they had darkened into twilight before we reached
Ingleside.
On the seventeenth, the chimes (the beautiful me-
morial of Rev. Edward C. Bull), were heard for the first
time. How eagerly we listened as the notes rang out
and died away on the evening air ! Every one said : —
"Sh!" — and a breathless stillness came over us which
lasted until the last note had trembled away. Now
we hear them every Sunday ; but each time the same
quiet falls upon us girls. Somehow, we never talk then.
The Pansy benefit gave us another opportunity to
hear Mrs. Hannibal Williams in "A Midsummer-Night's
Dream." It is truly needless to mention the enjoyment
it gave us.
No hands or brains were idle toward the close of the
month, for those who were rehearsing for one of the three
celebrated plays, or practicing quartettes, duets or solos
for the Musicale, were taxing their powers of invention
to concoct a becoming costume for the Gypsy Queen.
Even the Symphony Club, which has been a thing of
every Wednesday evening, seemed to redouble its efforts.
The last thing to record is the "Robin Tea." We
were invited from three until five- thirty. The Robin
being the Senior house, was gorgeous in the '96 colors.
The decorations of white and green blended so prettily
with the gay cushions that were here, there, and every-
where, enticing one to sit down and stay far over their
INGLESIDE LOG.
time. We were entertained in a royal way, with refresh-
ments from Maresi's ; the cute souvenirs, consisting of
little green frogs, tied by white satin ribbons to cards,
bearing appropriate mottoes were laughed over, enjoyed
and taken home, to remind us that the Robins, beyond
a doubt, are exceptional hostesses, and have given us
the pleasantest time of all with which to remember the
close of '96 and the month of May.
Evangeline Cape.
The Crickets' Life at Hickory Hearth,
OUT of the darkness, the storm, and the gloom of a
windy night in January, a new girl from a city far
beyond these beautiful Berkshire Hills, opened the heavy
iron-clamped door of Hickory Hearth, and stepped into
a new life. The room was warm, with a ruddy glow
which radiated from a huge fire of hickory logs, and the
flames, roaring and crackling up the enormous stone chim-
ney, seemed to bid the newcomer welcome. Figures and
faces came out of the dark oak hall, and cordial hands
were eagerly stretched forth in greeting. So the stranger,
the last " Cricket " for the Winter of '96, became one of
the Hickory Hearth family, and blending her chirp with
the others, made the days merry, and the nights tuneful,
as the year went on.
* * *
Early one morning in June, before the dew had left
the grass, three figures might have been seen wending
their way towards the farm. The} T were hatless, and the
light breeze blew their hair about in reckless abandon.
With an air of perfect freedom and unrestraint, they
raced along in greatest glee, like children upon an un-
looked for holiday. They were the "Crickets" taking
INGLESIDE LOG.
113
' ' Buttons " to be weighed again ; and woe to her if she
did not tip the scales satisfactorily for the credit of
Hickory Hearth ! Having more than fulfilled all desired
expectations, she was allowed for her good behavior to
wander at her own sweet will among the cows, and
Meerschaum 2d, and Belle Reinette, were made happy by
her attentions. Lessons and practicing loomed up in the
dim distance, and so these would-be " Dairy Maids " were
persuaded ere long, that study was a necessary evil. Back
they turned, and walked, oh! very slowly, to prolong the
pleasure as long as possible. They found at the door
awaiting them, John, the " Hickory Hearth Oracle," with
Rex, the faithful horse; then they knew that their brief
vacation was over, and without delay disappeared over
ii4
INGLESIDE LOG.
the brow of the hill, trundling the weighty ' ' Buttons ' '
behind them.
* * *
A terrific peal of thunder, and then a crashing sound,
followed by a report like a pistol, and a brilliant glare of
light flooded the rooms of Hickory Hearth, revealing a
startled group. Mrs. Black and May, part way up the
staircase, were glancing anxiously at each others' appre-
hensive faces. Isabel, at the window in the alcove, had
shrunk back in alarm as the dazzling flash shot into the
room, and Flora and Miss Hill, in the hall below, stood
with their mouths agape, as the thunder continued to roll
heavily along the heavens ; while Rex, with his tail
tucked close beneath his body, rushed wildly up the
stairs, and buried his head in the lap of his mistress,
INGLESIDE LOG. 115
trembling pitifully. A head appeared around the door-
way ; it was John, to learn if any harm had happened.
The light abruptly disappeared, and a darkness, silent,
save for the muttered thunder, covered all.
" 'T ain't candy, never will be; them chillun thinks
't will, but 3 r er can't make candy 'tout Awleans molasses. ' '
And Emma, our cook from the Sunny South, pulled the
thin sticky fluid through her fingers, it must have been
for the eleventh time. We "Crickets" gazed at her
doubtfully, but it surely was the truth, for the clock ticked
on, and the candy came not. "Then, Emma, you must
tell us some of } r our war stories until the candy boils."
" Wa' stories, wa' stories? I dun know no wa' stories ;
I'se only for cooking ; you go ask Harris, he knows a lot
of 'em. Why, he was on the South '11 side, an' he dun run
away one night, when de smoke was so thick yer could
cut it wid a knife, and, la ! when de Yankees foun' him,
he was as weak as a baby ; but I seed de Yankees run at
Bull Run ; dey runn'd all day, and dey runn'd all night,
fer three nights an' days runnin' . I was at Mount Vernon
du'ring de wa'; staid der all de time ; but, chillun, the
candy 's b'iling, I can't tell 3 T er no wa' stories; yer go
ask Harris, he '11 tell 'em to ye'." And Emma grasped
the handle of the kettle with both hands, and started
across the kitchen ; but the molasses, in a sudden freak,
boiled high above the pot, and she in frantic haste made
a zigzag rush for the sink, while we scattered before her,
giving wide room to her mad career. However, the
candy cooled hard, and we ate it.
n6
INGLESIDE LOG.
A gentle tapping upon our doors by "Gussie,"
awakens us to the fact that it must be seven o'clock, and
that we have a new day to live at Hickory Hearth.
Hastily dressing, we tread softly down the stairs, and out
upon the piazza, to obtain our bearings, as it were, before
the first dewy freshness of the morning has worn away.
The dining-room doors slide back, and breakfast is an-
nounced by a sun-tanned native of the Southern states ;
then are we greeted by our hostess, and a merry meal
ensues. Our hunger appeased, Rex demands his share
of attention, and then, also, our hands well -filled with
sugar, we visit the stables and bestow unlimited petting
upon each horse. But finally we are obliged to tear our-
selves away, if we wish to reach school in time for
INGLESIDE LOG.
117
prayers; so, donning our capes, we bid farewell to Rex,
who has leaped upon the stone parapet to watch us off,
and we hurry through the orchard by the short-cut.
Busily we practice and study until, at the sounding
of the triangle, we drop our books, and crowd around
Miss Rinker, all demanding a letter in the same breath.
In the midst of the hubbub, the bugle blows, and after
:
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the required ten minutes we enter upon George's domain,
where we regale ourselves with luncheon. Again our
brains are restlessly employed until, as the shadows ap-
proach three o'clock, the doleful faces brighten, and the
weary ones are filled with a new life. Then right briskly
the wheels spin along the road, and the golf balls score
no less than thirty-six, while tennis and riding hold no
n8
INGLESIDE LOG.
second place in the sports of Ingleside. Wearied but
happy, the " Crickets" climb the hill, and rest upon the
piazza, vying with each other in their tales of the day.
Sometimes "Jen 1 lie" is there, with that wicked Dandy,
who always makes Rex jealous. But the day is not
yet ended. In new attire, and with washed faces, the
"Crickets" reappear, and after their dinner, a la punc-
tilio, entertain with buoyant hearts all who may chance
to visit Hickory Hearth. A dream - like recollection
comes of the many times when they have listened in
silent ecstasy for hours, bound by the magic of Mr.
Clemence's music, and the}' still seem to listen, and to
hear the wondrous harmony which came to them in the
moon -lit church, when, with the feeling of the born
INGLESIDE LOG. 119
musician and the technique of the Eeipsig graduate, he
interpreted the wonders of Wagner, until the music
seemed one marvelous inarticulate speech, and they were
wafted into the infinite. Evenings that bring special
memories like these, and those of every-day life, alike
ended peacefully, and "the moon" in the upper hall
arises and lights them to their beds, where sleep steals
on, "as sleep will do when hearts are light and life
is new. ' '
* * *
Before a large open fire place a young girl is lying
rest fully upon a thick bear- skin rug, and, with her head
pillowed upon her arm, is gazing thoughtfully into the
flames, though ever and anon, she bestows a loving pat
upon the white English setter whose place she has
usurped, and who mutely resents the imposition. The
room is quiet but for the snapping of the burning wood
and the musical tones of a lady, who, seated within easy
reach of the lamp on the table, is reading aloud. Two
other girls by the table are bending low over their fancy
work, and with a tense expression about their mouths,
ply their needles in silent swiftness. The ' ' Crickets ' '
are all present, for the fourth maiden is ensconced upon
the sofa in comfortable ease, and lies with her eyes
closed, and a dreamy expression upon her face. The
evening glides on until, as the story is finished, the hands
of the clock point at half after nine, and our best evening
of all, at Hickory Hearth, "the quiet evening," is but a
remembrance.
Isabel White.
The Senior Cat.
GREAT excitement prevailed in the ' ' Robin ' ' a few
days after the Easter vacation ; there was a hurried
consultation with "Buttons," and the mighty
Seniors sallied forth from their palatial abode, joy, anx-
iety, and, it must be admitted, some terror, depicted upon
their intelligent countenances. In about ten minutes
they returned, the centre of an admiring crowd, bearing
in their arms one who was destined to fill a lofty
position, the dignity and power of which was only
equalled by the graciousness and condescension of its
occupant.
The Senior Cat was no longer a figment of the
imagination ; it had become a very playful, furry, maltese
fact. It was at once christened "Ninety-six," partly
because it w r as the mascot of that glorious class, and,
partly, because it had nine lives and six toes.
What fun we did have with that small kitten, to be
sure ! I wonder how many times, O Robins ! the walls
of our stately mansion re-echoed w T ith the sound of
"Kop's" plaintive voice: "Oh, girls! come quickly!
The cat is going to have a fit ! It jumpeth ! " But in
spite of these daily alarms and the dark predictions of
envious outsiders who have no pets, a fit is still a thing
of the future.
One much- enduring individual remembers a certain
morning when the spirit moved the "Cherub," as it is
sometimes called, to gambol at half -past three, also the
exceeding thoroughness and \dvacit3 7 with which it obeyed
the promptings of the spirit.
IXGLESIDE LOG. 123
With what firmness and strength of character we
1 ' pursued the even tenor of our way ' ' in regard to that
very important subject — its diet ! Heedless of all gra-
tuitous remonstrances, we followed rigorouslv the course
124 INGLESIDE LOG.
marked out for us by " One-who-knew," and if " Ninety-
six ' ' does not follow the example of his illustrious name-
sake, and grow up to be both strong and beautiful, it
will not be from any lack of the most assiduous care
and attention in his youth. In proof of this we point
proudly to the path from the Binderstrich to the Robin,
which has become a veritable ' ' Milky Way ' ' through
our efforts.
All of the brilliant and wonderful actions of this
remarkable animal can not be related here ; suffice it
to say, that never, from the time when in his early
infancy, we left him alone on the balcony, to the night
he said "Amen" in the middle of the hymn at prayers;
no, not even that terrible study-hour when the cry of
' ' Iyost Cat ' ' resounded throughout Ingleside and the
tearful Seniors rushed frantically about Terrace Place,
making a very weird-looking torchlight procession as
they examined the most unlikely nooks and crannies,
by the light of their nickering candles ; no, not even on
that memorable occasion, nor before, nor since, has he
ceased to cover himself with honor and glory.
Emily W. Sailer, '96.
Feasts."
THEY usually begin with the expressman. That is,
they begin for us with him, and when the wagon
appears, we, who are expecting the good things,
race up the street and gather 'round as the man de-
posits the box on the office porch. In a short time the
whole of Ingleside gathers about it, carefully reads the
lucky maiden's name, and guesses on the contents.
It is only on Friday and Saturday afternoons that
we girls can have feasts, anyway ; so, imagine how we
long for those days to come. Our mouths water the
whole week through, in anticipation.
Holidays are feast-days, also. Washington's Birthday
proved no exception to the rule. Poor George Wash-
ington! We wonder if he ever had a "box" himself,
and enjoyed it as we do ours. We fear he only had a
feast of "cannon balls and cartridges," as the song
goes. However, we feel vastly indebted to him for
making himself immortal enough to institute a holiday.
Some one has said, " Enough is as good asa " feast,"
but we never have seen anything one-half as good. The
ice-cream, cake, and other goodies that go to make up
a box never taste the same at other times ; and, as for
a bottle of olives — why, to the end of our days they will
126 INGLE SIDE LOG.
be a delight to our eyes for the happy recollections they
bring !
Sometimes we girls feel a trifle dilapidated after we
have finished one of our bountiful repasts, and we learn
the truth of Shakespeare's words — "They are as sick
that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with
nothing. ' '
We wonder if the great dinners of the social world
we may attend in later years will be one-half as de-
lightful, as the times when we have sat perched on
chairs and tables partaking of a "feast," where hat-
pins did duty as forks, and one knife — a penknife, at
that — served for all. But this much we do know: a
' ' box ' ' will give more genuine fun and satisfaction than
anything else on a girl's list of pleasures.
Augusta H. Knevals.
fS
**\
%
~.
**v
The Pansy Garten,
FOR two long years no
record has been
written concerning the
work of the Garten and
the data has accumulated
unnoticed in the fleeting
months until now we of
'96 must write of '95 as
well as ourselves. Many of
the happenings concern
only us who are fortunate
enough to have been ad-
mitted into mysteries of the Garden.
To begin with '95. The pansy periods were success-
ful and joyous ones, and new pansies bloomed on old
bracelets, and new bracelets shone on the arms of those
who had not labored in vain.
■*- * H-
128 INGLESIDE LOG.
The '95 ribbon on our banner floats proudly and
bravely among the others, bearing the names of five
girls who were weighed in the balance and were not
found wanting. The close of '95 saw the work of the.
original seven finished; finished, but not forgotten, for
we, to whose waiting shoulders their mantle of dignity
and office was transferred, can never forget what they
have done. Recognizing our inefficiency it was with
fear and trembling, not vanity and pride, that we went
on with their labor, for we knew that we should have to
strive hard to make our record as brilliant and brave as
theirs.
To cheer and help us on, one of the seven came back
to us for a time, our first Untergartner ; came to Hickory
Hearth, our new rallying place, where our dear Gart-
nerin reigns as queen, and where her loyal pansies joy-
fully meet her and hold sweet council together.
Here, too, the Fireside Meetings have been held,
and triumphant maidens have, from month to month,
received the banner from crestfallen, kneeling girls, to
bear it proudly to their own fireside.
In the natural course of events, initiations have taken
place, such as no pen outside could describe, or inside
dare describe ; the peculiar noises succeeded by cheers,
all suggesting joviality, alone can be enlarged upon, for
that is all that has come to the listening ears of the
Unkrauts. They credit us only with mystery, little
knowing the true work and worth that lies underneath.
At other times Bef order ungs have been celebrated, but
here we are trespassing on secrets.
LIBRARY
OF THE
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
INGLESIDE LOG.
131
On a few tables little purple books have been found,
securely fastened with golden locks. Most disappointing
books are they to the curious outside world, for no key
is ever found by them to make the volumes yield their
treasures. The Pansies wear a knowing look when
What is Geheimniss?
questioned, but, like the books themselves, decline to
give up their secret.
The absent ones have furnished our pen almost as
much material as those who have been here to clasp
hands and repeat with us Tapfer, Ernst and Treu.
1 32 INGLESIDE LOG.
The scent of orange blossoms has quite overpowered
us Pansies, who have been quietly blooming here in our
secluded work, for news has come at different times, in
the shape of wedding cards, telling us that two Stief-
mutterchen have taken other vows than those imposed by
the Garten. The heartiest congratulations are extended
by the Garten to the two who have firesides of their own
now, and it wishes them all the good things that life
holds.
But here a serious question presents itself. What
are we to do with those husbands when we have a
Geheimniss of the Gesells, as we are always hoping to
have, some day? We have never had such a weighty
matter to ponder before. Girls, shall we have to make
a new By-Iyaw?
Mingled with this news of rejoicings there has been
sadness, which has left its deep impression upon our
hearts. The memory of the dear girl who ever proved
herself our loyal, loving friend ; and the thoughts of
those past days, when she was one of us, has made
us a little quieter at times, a little more thoughtful, a
little more earnest in our ways. We have missed the
brave Pansy who cheered us with her brightness, and,
trusting always in her loyalty, the Garten has mourned
her loss with sincere sorrow, realizing it will never have
a truer or more faithful member. Although there are
many things to perpetuate her memory, when we girls
of the Garten had a Geheimniss to talk over the L,enten
offering, the unanimous vote was — "A Window for
Helen. ' ' We gave a little benefit in which ' 'A Midsummer-
INGLESIDE LOG. 133
Night's Dream" made our plans a reality, and the win-
dow is in its place to keep in continued remembrance the
dear face, the dear heart of Helen Taylor.
The usual Pansy Day letters from the old girls make
us realize that the days of '96 are over and its record
almost ended ; and as we gather at Hickory Hearth for
our last Geheimniss, we trust and hope as we say "Auf-
wiedersehn," that the Summer months may only
strengthen in the hearts of the Pansies the same brave
spirit, the same earnest purpose, the same loyalty they
have ever exhibited in the months that have gone.
Augusta J. Whitk.
A.LR
All Saints, with the New Bell Tower.
BANNER GIRLS, YEAR OF '95.
Auce Dewey,
1st and 2d Periods*
Edwinna Hammond,
3d Period.
Anna Feetcher, - il The Hall.
4th Period.
Katherine Dewey, "The Cuckoo.
5th Period.
' ' The Cuckoo.
"The Cuckoo.
YEAR OF '96.
Ruth Knowles, ' ' The Hall. ' '
1st and 6th Periods.
Anna Fletcher,
"The Hall."
2d, 3d and 5th
Periods.
m\\m
k Vi
\\: it
Ylfe/r
%
WlNNIBEE
CLARKE,
"The Studio^
2d Period.
evangeune
Cape,
"The Had."
4th Period.
programme
♦OF,
Commencement Week
Sunday Morning, June 7th
AT 9.30 O'CLOCK
PRESENTATION OF WINDOW IN MEMORY OF HELEN M.
TAYLOR, CLASS OF '96.
BY THE PANSY GARTEN.
MORNING SERVICE AT 10.45.
BACCALAUREATE SERMON-
REV. F. B. DRAPER.
1 36 INGLESIDE LOG.
PANSY DAY
Monday Morning, June 8th
AT 9.30 O'CLOCK
AT Hickory Hearth
GEHEIMNISS IN THE EVERGREENS— PANSY GARTEN.
AT 5 O'CLOCK.
TEA WITH THE GARTNERIN
OPEN MEETING—
Awarding of Bracelets, Sweepstakes Prize, etc., at six o'clock
GYPSEY OPERETTA, - Franz Abt
at 7 o'clock, on the lawn
MR. E. G. CLEMEJVCE, Conductor
Assisted by MR. C. H. BUTTE RICK
Gypseys : — Misses Bliss, Roberts, Gair, Thompson, A. J. White,
Fletcher, L. Underbill, Carnahan, H. McNeil, Hewitt, M.
Hewitt, I. White, Knibloe, Thorpe, Mulliken, Hopkins, Jones,
Botsford, Booth, Kimlin, Colvin, Smith, Jennings, Lyons,
Noyes, Boucher, Knap, Cooke, Nelson, Buck, Post.
Tuesday Morning, June 9th
1. MARIONETTE OVERTURE, - Gurlett
MAY HEWITT ALMA B. LYONS
LAURA M. POST SOPHIE BOUCHER
IXGLESIDE LOG.
137
Tuesday Morning, June 9th— Continued
WENN DIE KATZE FORT 1ST
Frau Philipp,
LlESCHEX
Kitty
hex, I
'> J
DEREN T6CHTER,
Paula,
Emma,
Betti,
Lena,
Flora,
D6RTE,
Pensionarinnen bei
Frau Philipp
\ Dienstmadchen in
J demselben Haus
ANNA E. FLETCHER
EDWINNA HAMMOND
MARGARET NOYES
CLARA CARNAHAN
EVA CAPE
ISABEL SMITH
ETHEL HOPKINS
MILDRED THORPE
JANET KNAP
Die Handlung spielt in Frau Philipp' s Wohnung in einer
grosseren Stadt.
CONCERT WALTZ,
EMMA COOKE
ISABEL SMITH
PANSY ORCHESTRA,
FLORA HEWITT,
CLARA CARNAHAN,
ANNA FLETCHER
SUSIE NELSON, -
GUSSIE KNEVALS,
JANET KNAP,
MAY HEWITT. -
H. Hoffman
CLARA CARNAHAN
LILLIAN UNDERHILL
- Selected
Mandolin
Banjo
Guitar
138 INGLESIDE LOG.
Tuesday Morning, June 9th— Continued
"UN OUARTIER TRANQUILLY"
PERSONNAGES :
Madame Maegarni (Veuve), proprietaire d'une maison
meublee, ----- AUGUSTA J. WHITE
Eudoxie Ceeopatre, sa fille, - HELEN MULLIKEN
Madame de e'EntrechaT (nee Saute-en-1'air) maitresse
de danse, ----- SOPHIE BOUCHER
AnaTasie, bonne, - LILLIAN UNDERHILL
MEEE. Doremi, maitresse de chant, - DAISY SAILER
M. Vacarme, personnages qu'on ne voit pas ; mais qu'on
entend beaucoup, -
MEEE. de e'AquareeeE, artiste-peintre, ISABEL WHITE
MEEE. OEYMPE Zoe DE MONT-PARNASSE, poete-auteur
CAROLINE ROBERTS
Le Scene se passe a Passy.
Tuesday Evening, June 9th
AT 8 O'CEOCK
OVERTURE, -------- Seeected
ORCHESTRA
THE FIRST ACT OF W. S. GILBERT'S MYTHOLOGICAL COMEDY
....PYGMALION AND GALATEA....
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Pygmaeion, a sculptor, - - - HARRIET L. McNEIL
LEUCIPPE, a warrior, - CORA T. UNDERHILL
Agesimo, slave to Cheysos, - MAY HEWITT
Mimos, Pygmalion's slave, - ELSIE JONES
Cynisca, Pygmalion's wife, - - - SUSIE L. NELSON
Myrine, Pygmalion's sister, - - - EMMA W. COOK
GaeaTEA, a statue, ----- MABEL D. COLVIN
Scene : Pygmalion's Studio. Place : Athens
USHERS
Miss McNEIL Miss GAIR
Miss PEARSON Miss SAILER
INGLESIDE LOG.
139
Wednesday Morning, June 10th
AT II O'CLOCK
...LIGHT GYMNASTICS...
Miss NEWTON, Instructor.
ORDER OF EXERCISE
1. Marching 4. Hoop Drill
2. Short Wands 5. Wooden Dumb Bells
3. Free Movements 6. Dancing Calisthenics
Awarding of Prize offered by Mr. Robert C. Black
Students
Augusta White
Janet Knap
Alice Bliss
Emma Cooke
Daisy Sailer
Edwinna Hammond
Kate Pearson
Carrie McMahon
Laura Hill
May Hewitt
Bessie Booth
Susie Nelson
Florence Hammond
Fay Chaffee
Helen Mulliken
Edith Florence
Florence Browning
Mabel Colvin
Isabel White
Laura Post
Edith Bennett
Winnibel Clark
Sophie Boucher
Margaret Noyes
Hattie McNeil
Lena Botsford
Clara Carnahan
Lillie Hatch
Lillian Underhill
Ethel Hopkins
Julia Jennings
Elsie Jones
Mildred Thorpe
Alma Lyons
Ushers
Helen A. Hunt
Cora T. Underhill
Ruth S. Knowles
95
4o INGLESIDE LOG.
Wednesday Evening, June 10th
AT 8 O'CLOCK
PIANO RECITAL
MR. E. G. CLEMENCE, ----- Instructor
DUETT — Cradle and Swing Songs, - Leon D'OurivieeE
Misses MILDRED THORPE and EVANGELINE CAPE
SOLO — Selections from Op. 33, - - - - A. Jensen
Miss MARGARET NOYES
DUO, TWO PIANO — Rondo, - C. GureiTT
MISSES ISABEL WHITE and EDWINNA HAMMOND
SOLO — Valse Flottante, - R. Statkowski
Miss McNEIL
SOLO — Piece Rustique, - - - - R. Mozkowski
Miss AUGUSTA J. WHITE
QUARTETTE — Novelette, - - - - H. Hoffmann
Miss A. J. WHITE Miss ISABEL WHITE
Miss McNEIL Mr. EDWIN G. CLEMENCE
Ushers
Miss PEARSON Miss SAILER
Miss COLVIN Miss GAIR
Miss H. HUNT Miss UNDERHILL
INGLES/ DE LOG.
141
Thursday, June 11th
AT 12 NOON
GRADUATION EXERCISES
MARCHING SONG,
Words : Heeen A. Hunt
Music : E. G. Ceemence
SCHOOL CHORUS
ESSAY— "The Influence of Costume"
CORA T. UNDERHILL, '95
POEM —" The Laurel "
HELEN A. HUNT, '95
PART SONG— "Twelve by the Clock" -
SCHOOL CHORUS
ESSAY— "The Story in Modern Literature"
KATE O. PEARSON
ESSAY — ' 'Undercurrents ' '
JULIA L. McNEIL
ABSCHIEDSGRUSSE—
LENA A. BOTSFORD
PART SONG— "Forest Greeting" -
SCHOOL CHORUS
PRESENTATION OF DIPLOMAS —
REV. F B. DRAPER
ADDRESS — RT. Rev. JOHN WILLIAMS, D. D., LL. D.
PARTING CHORUS — "Sweet Ingleside "
SCHOOL CHORUS
C. A. Leoyd
S. Rust
Thursday Afternoon, June 11th
At Hickory Hearth
The Graduates will receive with Mrs. Black
TREE PLANTING at 6:30
t-p-pt? cnwr f Words : Mabee A. KnibloE
TREE SONG - - - j Music . E Q Cw5MENCB
EVEN SONG — Ale Saint's Church, at 7 o'Ceock
Influence of Costume,
* * A ND Eve first to her husband thus began : ' Adam,
*V well may we labor still to dress this garden. ' '
Who dare say that Milton understood not the all-
powerful instinct of woman to beautify ; to decorate ; to
adorn? With marvelous intuition regarding her nature
he put dress among the first words uttered by her lips,
and thus gave the keynote of her future work in the
world. Strange and superficial though it may seem, at
first glance, the external in life largely influences and
controls the internal, and feeling is greatly influenced by
action. We who have been in a very humble way
disciples of Delsarte, have learned that what appears
upon the surface compels the feeling underneath, and
woman through all ages has made personal adornment
not only one of her chief pleasures, but also one of her
most powerful agents to control the other sex and to
work out her schemes for good or evil in this world.
All civilized nations have recognized the fact that the
minutiae of costume in the uniform of army, navy and
government officers is a matter of significant importance.
Congress exercises legislative authority in reference to
INGLESIDE LOG. 143
the design of a button, the color of an epaulet or the
fashion of a soldier's or sailor's cap, as well as regarding
the laws which secure our country's rights and liberties.
Time has proven that there is wisdom in the adoption
of a distinctive uniform for all who labor in the public
service. A flitting glance at the policeman's brass
buttons controls Pat in his hilarious vagaries quite as
surely as does the stroke from the officer's club. The
cap and red coat of the fireman clears the track as
effectually as an armed force, and a vision of the simple
garb worn by the trained nurse wins the immediate
confidence and soothes the sufferings of the lonely hospital
patient. A Florence Nightingale or a Sister of Mercy
passes unharmed where women of equal dignity, but
clothed in the habiliments of fashion, would not dare to
tread.
In scriptural times costume was not considered a
matter of small importance. Joseph's famous coat of
many colors changed forever the history of the Children
of Israel. The mantle of Elijah, with its great signifi-
cance attached, serves as another example. And the
dire fate of him who, bidden to the wedding feast, came
clothed not in the wedding garment, shows us how
severe were the laws regarding dress at that time.
In these later days the vestments of the clergy in
the Roman, Greek and Anglican churches play a
conspicuous part in the gorgeous ritual. The scarlet
robes, the purple and fine linen of the priest, attract and
impresses where extreme simplicity and lack of symbolism
would fail ; and, so, what seems to the Puritan a trivial
i 4 4 INGLESIDE LOG.
matter, becomes of serious importance since, trivial or
not, it may influence thousands of pious worshipers.
Although Ballington Booth claims to ignore all worldly
ideas, he has chosen for his followers a distinctive cos-
tume, and the poke bonnet and plain blue gown is to-day
a sufficient introduction, and protection, too, in the slums
of London and New York.
All along the road of life, costume plays an important
part in woman's career. It is an expression of her joy,
or emphasizes her sorrow. The christening robe that
envelops her infant form is the first associated with her
history ; soon laid aside, to be sure, but cherished always ;
not by its wearer so much, perhaps, as by the fond
mother, who sees in it always the baby she has loved.
Years roll on, and the confirmation dress marks another
epoch. The graduation dress soon follows, when we
see her
"Standing with reluctant feet,
Where the brook and river meet,
Womanhood and childhood, fleet. 1 '
Then comes the first ball gown — a symphony of
gauze and lace — and some women treasure up as full of
associations, also, the Golf costume, the Bicycle dress, or
the Habit in which the}- have cantered over hill and dale.
There are other toilettes, too — simple, even- -day
dresses — that have history ; that bring visions of bright
days, or sad, which, because of this or that, we can not
rip, or change, or give away, and in some cases seem to
have completely altered the story of a life. But the
dress to a woman, the dress the girl dreams of and from
IXGLESIDE LOG. 145
which the woman would not part ; the dress that is
folded and laid away to grow old and yellow with years,
but growing dearer and more precious with flitting time ;
the one over which she bends with fondest smiles, or, in
the might}' sorrow of widowhood, bedews with tears ;
the one through which the angel of joy ■, or the angel of
sorrow speaks to her in their deepest language ; the
gown that makes her forget her years and grow young
again, only to bring to her realization all the more
forcibly that time is hastening on, is the wedding gown !
We are all aware that man never pleads guilt}- to the
love of dress ; but, nevertheless, circumstantial evidence
is strongly against him. The pride that the small boy
exhibits in his first pair of trousers is a telling argument
against this later protested indifference, for " is not the
child the father of the man ? ' ' There is also the im-
maculate dress-suit and dazzling patent-leathers that
mark the crossing of the Rubicon to man}' a socially
ambitious youth. Surely, as the great poet says, "The
soul of this man is in his clothes. ' '
Man proclaims that he considers comfort first, and
that the elegance and style of dress is to him a matter of
secondary importance ; he cares nothing for vain, idle
show. If he can prove to us that comfort lies in the
choking high collar and necessity demands the several
inches of what seems wasted material in the bright silk
hat, and can account for the reckless extravagance of
cloth that exists in those lengthy coat tails, we shall
stand convicted.
There are the dudes — the weakest of human develop-
146 INGLESIDE LOG.
ment — " they toil not, neither do they spin, yet Solomon
in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these."
There seems to be a generally acknowledged propriety
in the fact that, barring the Oscar Wildes and the men
dressmakers, the question of costume is largely in the
hands of woman. It is her duty, as from the first, to
beautify, to dress the garden. It therefore becomes a
sacred duty that she should strive to elevate costume into
a noble influence. Dress and a foolish love of it may, it
is true, be a terrible danger. People tell us of the
misery which may come of it, wretched homes, children
neglected, men driven to mad-houses and penitentiaries
by extravagant expenditure in this direction. We, in
our country school, can scarcely realize what fashion
means to those who are ' ' in the swim. ' ' In our quiet
corner of the world the fashion of a hat is good or bad,
as it becomes the owner, or suits well or ill its uses and
our sports ; and the cut of a skirt or sleeve desirable, if it
pleases the eye and does not impede the Golf club or the
Bicycle. Woman, up to the present day, has frankly
admitted that she considered beauty first, and comfort
later; but now the great question is: Shall comfort, in
the shape of short skirts and bloomers, banish forever
the delicate, flimsy creations that have called forth the
poems and sonnets of former days?
Utility makes beauty, largely, and dress should be
made suitable to time and place, purse an accessory only ;
" a servant, not a master." Not because Dame Fashion
dictates, but because of reasons pure and good should
we follow her decrees ; and a woman who dares defy
INGLE SIDE LOG. 147
Fashion will often bring her and her votaries to her feet.
No amusement or occupation can be womanly which
necessitates an unwomanly costume — nor should a woman
make herself conspicuous by an unnecessary violation of
Fashion's laws; but, under certain conditions, there is
nothing finer than a girl who is dignified in a narrow
gown when wide skirts are in vogue, or at her ease in
tight sleeves when her sisters hide behind mountains of
puffs.
We read of the King's Daughter that her ''clothing-
is of wrought needlework ; " but we are told, first, that
she is "all glorious within." So a woman should make
her costume, if possible, the expression of herself — then
dress will hold in the world not a first place in im-
portance, but be considered the handmaid of brighter
things ; and the woman who controls costume well, will
clothe herself, first, with "light as with a garment."
Defense of Shylock.
IT has been said that Shylock has no redeeming quali-
ties, and at the first glance this might seem to be
true. He has been called revengeful and avaricious,
but even admitting this to be so, are there no virtues
besides mercy and generosity?
He has been condemned on the ground that his
affection for his daughter seemed to be scarcely equal
to his love for his ducats ; but must a man be utterly
and wholly corrupt because he does not show affection
for a child who hates his nation, his religion, and him-
self?
Those who accuse him of coldness towards Jessica
forget that Jessica could never have been a true daughter
to him in any sense of the word.
Can a daughter who speaks of her father's house as
hell be loving? One who deceives, be dutiful? Is it
possible that a liar should wish trust and affection ? For
Jessica does lie when she answers the Jew's question
with: "His words were, 'Farewell, Mistress,' nothing
more," when Launcelot had just said something quite
different.
Jessica herself feels that she commits a ' ' heinous sin ' '
in treating her father as she does, and surely there is no
INGLESIDE LOG. 149
other way of looking at her theft. Her flight, repre-
hensible though it was to leave her father alone in his
old age, might possibly be excused on account of her
extreme youth and inexperience, and consequent im-
patience of her secluded life ; but nothing can be found
to exculpate that theft, for she knew, of course, that
she would be very justly disinherited after such an act
and, therefore, could not have comforted herself with
the reflection that she was taking only a small part of
what would eventually have become hers.
In spite of her unworthiness, however, it is not at all
certain that Shylock did dislike her. See how he shows
her his bitterness and trouble in the lines :
' ' But wherefore should I go ?
I am not bid for love ; they natter me."
And how little sympathy or comfort he gets from her.
What tenderness lies hidden in the words "Jessica, my
girl ! " He is even moved by Iyauncelot's kindly wish for
his mistress, and says, "The patch is kind enough."
It seems strange that Shylock has been so generally
condemned for that passage, commencing: "My daugh-
ter ! O my ducats ! O my daughter ! " It must be re-
membered that this Jew was a proud man. Is it at all
in accordance with his nature that he should go and
blazon forth his real hurt, which was the flight of his
daughter with Lorenzo, on such a public place as the
Rialto? Would he let every dog of a Christian read his
inmost sorrow ? Yet he must have some outlet ; the loss
of his money was public news and he could relieve his
150 INGLESIDE LOG.
feelings by raving about it ; but, in spite of himself, his
real trouble would creep out and makes the whole passage
infinitely sad.
One can almost see the poor, old man, deserted and
betrayed, by the only person in the whole world on
whom he had any claim, as those pathetic utterances
burst from his lips, the street boys mocking him as
they fell, ' ' O my daughter ! " ' ' Fled with a Christian ! ' '
' ' Stolen from me by my daughter ! " It has been urged
against him that he had no friends ; it was said that if
those around him found nothing in him to admire, there
could have been nothing admirable in his character ; it
seems to have been forgotten that to be a Jew in Venice
at that time was worse, immeasurably worse, than to be
the meanest cur that roamed the streets ; it has slipped
from the memories of his modern enemies, that to be
successful in any place, or at any time, is to direct the
hatred of thousands of the envious unsuccessful against
oneself ; and Shy lock was a successful Jew.
What Jessica thought, and said, and did, cannot be
used against him, for she was a Christian in spirit, if
not in birth ; in spite of this, she nowhere actually says
anything against him.
As for Jewish friends, it is inconceivable that so
wealthy and powerful a man as Shylock should have
no parasites and followers in such a money- loving nation,
but, with the exception of Tubal and Chus, none are
mentioned ; therefore, it is not only possible but ex-
tremely probable that he had true friends among his
people who were simply left out of the play, as his
INGLESIDE LOG. 151
flatterers were, for artistic effect. So the reproach of
being friendless cannot, with any certainty, be main-
tained against him.
The only other accusation brought against him are
those of revengefulness, avarice and cruelty. He was,
undoubtedly, revengeful ; why should he not be ? Had
not his nation been down -trodden and persecuted for
centuries? Had not he himself particularly suffered at
the hands of the Christians, and especially at the hands
of this particular Christian and his friends? He com-
plains of Antonio for lending money gratis, and his
complaints are just. The merchant's methods of doing
business were very unbusiness-like ; he had no more right
to bring down the rate of usance, then in Venice, than a
store-keeper in New York would have to bring down the
price of any article, by selling it below cost. Antonio
called him ' ' cur ' ' and ' ' dog ' ' in public places ; he in-
sulted and humiliated him on all occasions. What won-
der that Shylock hated him from a personal stand-point
as well as with the accumulated hatred of centuries, of a
Jew for a Christian ?
So Shylock naturally jumped at the first chance of
vengeance. And the very fact that he did take such a
slight chance of getting his enemy in his power, proves
beyond a doubt, that avariciousness did not play such a
large part in his character as is generally supposed. It
was the merest accident that Antonio's ships should be
lost or delayed, and Shylock lost much money in taking
the risk.
The redeeming point in his character, however, is his
i 5 2 INGLESIDE LOG.
great loyalty to his nation, and even if this were his only
good trait, he should be forgiven many faults because
of it.
A great authority has spoken of his speech, begin-
ning: "Hath not a Jew eyes?" as one of the ablest
defences of an oppressed nation ever written ; and as
Shy lock is the great type of the Jew of all ages, he
should need no other defence for himself.
In the court scene he stands out clearly, a grand,
though solitary figure, sternly demanding justice.
The terrible power of public sentiment ; the Duke ;
the lawyers ; all Venice ; one might almost say, all the
world against him, but all unable to turn him from his
purpose.
Why should he be blamed, because Portia's appeal for
mercy failed to move him? It was beautiful, certainly,
but no one would expect a modern plaintiff to be affected
by it, and human nature is essentially the same in
all ages.
As for his reputed avariciousness, it does not
appear in this scene at all. Several times he refuses
thrice three thousand ducats, no inconsiderable sum in
those days.
In fact, Shylock did love his ungrateful daughter
better than his ducats ; he can not be called friendless ;
he is no more avaricious than any other man ; and, above
all, his whole character is redeemed, if it needs redemp-
tion, by his intense, overwhelming patriotism, one of the
noblest, most unselfish of the passions of man.
Emily W. Sailer.
The Story in Modern Literature,
THE origin of the story, its function and mission in
the social economy, its present standing, its prob-
able future — these are a few of the many questions
which the Goddess of Literature is entitled to ask of all
true worshipers at her shrine.
Though this is a theme capable of varied treatment,
reaching back, as it does, for its beginning into the
nebulous past and pointing forward into the dim future,
it may not be out of place to try to discover some of
the reasons for the important role which it plays upon
the stage of modern literature.
In this age of rapid progress, when new fields of
discovery are continually opening before us, the story,
as one of the prominent signs of the times, expresses
the dominant characteristics and tendencies of the day.
It is, above all, a response to present social demands,
and acquaints us with social, religious and political con-
ditions in the most profitable and expeditious manner
possible.
Since the introduction of printing, the growth of
the story has been gradual and sure. In the days of
i 5 4 INGLESIDE LOG.
our great grandmothers, the substitute for the present
story was found only in the old almanac hanging over
the kitchen fire-place, or among the back leaves of the
"American Spelling Book." Here the ambitious milk-
maid was brought to the notice of the rising generation,
the tendency to love of finery rebuked, and the habit
of ' ' counting our chickens before they are hatched ' '
held up to ridicule and scorn. The experience of the
boy who stole apples under difficulties, the man whose
cow was gored by his neighbor's bull, and tales of
a similar character certainly afforded no great oppor-
tunity for amusement or edification. The Bible really
contained the only short-stories worthy of the name
then, and the romantic maiden of those days was driven
to hiding the tabooed novel under the pile of flax at her
spinning wheel, when she pined for that kind of enter-
tainment, and made the adventures of "Sir Charles
Grandison," and the sorrows of "The Children of the
Abbey" her sole literary excitement.
Within the last fifty years the story has superseded
poetry, the drama and the novel, though the last only
to a limited extent. We all know that poetry, as a
general style of writing, has fallen into disuse ; and it
is an acknowledged fact that the drama fails to exert
its former influence. Even the novel does not occupy
so important a place as it did a few years ago ; possibly
because life is too full and the world too busy to read
long serial productions, or the three-volume romances
which were once so popular, and in many cases, so
valuable during the first half of the present century.
INGLESIDE LOG. 155
To-day, if the great reformers and philanthropists
who wielded their pens for noble purposes a few years
ago, could return, they would, perhaps, realize that
their work might be better done by the short, sharp,
incisive magazine-story, which accomplishes its object
and produces its effect between stations on a railway
journey, and scatters its seed unnoticed till the harvest
is reaped.
Dickens might touch our hearts to-day by the pathos
and humor of his ' ' Little Xell ' ' and his ' ' Mr. Micaw-
ber" in many new surroundings, or make the world
laugh while he closed the doors of a " Dotheboy's Hall"
by some shorter satire than that of ' ' Nicholas Xickleby , ' '
and opened to troops of happy girls — shall we say Ingle-
side, instead?' Charles Reade might now write a hun-
dred stories to unlock, as did his "Very Hard Cash,"
the doors of English mad-houses. Thackeray might give
us, in homeopathic doses, his exquisite satires on Lon-
don life, and send, periodically, into the literary world
his lessons upon character by others than ' ' Becky
Sharp. "
\\ nat the pulpit cannot reach, what the stage cannot
influence, what the law cannot control, the magazine,
through the caustic pen of its story- writer, will accom-
plish.
This is the day of the magazine ; but the political
article, the historical number, the critical treatise, even
the telling humor of a Charles Dudley Warner in the
Editors' Drawer, are not. after all, what sells the maga-
zine : and to us Americans, sad though it may seem, this
156 INGLESIDE LOG.
standard, what will sell, proves the value. In nine
cases out of ten, you will find the pages of the "Cen-
tury," "Scribner's," and "Harpers" cut first at the
short story.
The modern story was really created when magazines
were first introduced. Public demand was for amuse-
ment. The American man has little time for anything
save business. For his amusement, therefore, the maga-
zine writer was forced to condense much thought into a
small space, and to do his work with a few sharp blows.
By dint of hard labor, the writers of this day and
generation have in a measure accomplished this result
and have first given their stories to the public through
the medium of magazines. But though the constant
reading of these periodicals is discouraged by those who
seek to acquire a thorough education, the majority of
the reading-public incline to the magazine and news-
paper ; and the circulation of these publications, con-
stantly and rapidly increasing, proves that they are a
necessity to the people, and the surest channel through
which not only amusement, but education and improve-
ment may be provided for the masses.
To be able to write a good and effective story one
must have not only a gift for narration and a plentiful
amount of invention, but a keen appreciation of human
joy and sorrow derived from personal experience. Eliza-
beth Stuart Phelps, in her latest work, "A Singular
Life," has done more to overcome the narrowness of
old-school Calvinism than all the ecclesiastical conven-
tions could accomplish.
INGLESIDE LOG. 157
A recognized author should be capable of combining
various styles of composition in one work. Richard
Harding Davis possesses this faculty and uses it to
good intent in his "Unfinished Story," one of the best
examples of what the modern story should be and is.
Here, narration, description, exposition, argument, are
all introduced with a facility not easily surpassed. It
-seems to respond, in no small degree, to Shakespeare's
criterion of art, since it so faithfully "holds the mirror
up to nature."
But the best modern story- writer, though one with
whom the Americans as a nation are unfamiliar, was the
French author, Maupassant. As a writer of short stories
h.e had no equal, nor is it probable that he will have
before the close of this century.
As it is quite common with us now to wonder what
will be the conditions of life in the Twentieth Century,
so we may also conjecture concerning the story of the
future.
If men are upright and honorable, if women realize
the noblest ideal of womanhood, if politics are raised to
a higher level, if religion becomes less a name and more
a fact, then and then only the natural evolution of the
story will be toward higher and better things.
Iyife will govern the story then as it governs it to-
day.
Katk Oakley Pearson.
Undercurrents.
"Anyone can hold the helm when the sea is calm."
IT requires little experience to steer a ship gliding
smoothly over waters so calm that the sun's rays
serve only the more clearly to outline her graceful pro-
portions and to shape into grotesque forms her swaying
shadow.
I say it requires but little experience to mark out a
ship's course on such occasions ; but the sea is never our
trusted friend ; she is of a changeable nature, and when
storms arise, and the fearful undercurrents rock and
tumble the craft in the bellows' trough, then is a trusted
captain needed to take the helm and steer, with skillful
hand, out of danger's way.
He is initiated by experience into the mysteries of the
true course, and though he can not pacify the billows,
nor calm the winds, he knows where the rocks and shoals
lie, and can best avoid the undercurrents, and steer 'round
and past to the port beyond. But did you ever stop to
reflect upon the undercurrents which lie beneath the sur-
face of human lives? Day in and day out people hide
their deepest emotions, their truest sentiments, and their
finest susceptibilities, covering them with a surface of
reserve, while presenting to the world a calm and un-
ruffled exterior, rendered indifferent by contact with the
stern realities of every- day life.
IXGLESIDE LOG. 159
These undercurrents of thought and feeling exert
an influence upon the conduct of ever} 7 human
life, and require for their control a master-hand at
the helm.
No two individuals possess the same qualities, neither
in any two lives is the undercurrent quite the same.
Oliver Wendell Holmes makes this very happy
remark : ''Every one's feelings have a front-door and a
side-door ; the front-door opens into a passage which leads
into an ante-room, and from there into the interior
apartments, while the side-door opens at once into the
sacred chambers : — to this door few possess a key. ' '
Character is formed by one's mental and moral sur-
roundings ; in early life it is, of course, in an embryo
state, and the impressions gathered then are the seeds
w T hich germinate and produce the flowers of later life.
It is the imperceptible undercurrent of circumstance
that makes or mars the future.
In this wonderful nineteenth century, when civiliza-
tion is making such rapid strides, we believe that the
undercurrent of circumstance exerts not only an influence
upon the character of individuals, but also upon that of
nations. The various wars, the manifold national and
international disputes of the present day, only too truly
verify this statement.
Our likes and dislikes, our individual interests and
ambitions, are undercurrents of every-day life which alter
each action more than we at first imagine.
Take, for example, the average business man ; he
enjoys, at the theatre, a light farce where he can drown
i6o > INGLESIDE LOG.
his cares in a good laugh — while the sentimental school-
girl prefers to sit under the shadow of a large hat, and
weep copious tears of sympathy with the heroine, whose
lover has been stabbed by a jealous rival.
Our ideas of the world, ideas crude as yet to most of
us, are the result of this ever-present influence.
Take schoolgirls leaving the home nest, and the care
and protection of the mother wings, to brave the horrors
of homesickness at boarding-school. That is the first
step which takes us out into the world, and how to take
it is always the cause of more or less anxiety in the home
circle ; for upon it often depends the glorious success, or
ignominious failure of a life- time.
We sometimes imagine, since we have entered upon
school life, that we have seen and known the world ; we
discuss weighty questions with the utmost confidence,
and our heads are filled with opinions which we, in our
vanity, are convinced would do credit to the President of
the United States.
Yet, we are but gliding down the stream of girlhood —
the hills on either side shut out our vision. Let us here
consider the difficulties that we must overcome ere we
can pursue our course. For it is here we find our strength,
here our feet gain their steadfastness, and our hearts
their courage.
May we not liken Ingleside to an immense navy yard,
where ships of every size and kind, from the frail little
sail boat, capsized by a sudden squall, to the imposing
warship ready to fight the battles of the world, are in
process of construction? Observe carefully, and you will
IXGLESIDE LOG. 161
recognize the craft of the " 'Freshmen." the framework
scarcely begun ; they have no undercurrents to over-
come ; the}* are safely anchored for the next four years.
Holding aloof from the rest, alive with eager ex-
pectancy, wait the Juniors. It is easy to see that com-
petent workmen have done their tasks well. But, O ye
Juniors ! be not over-confident : the building of a ship is a
laborious process, and though to-day you present a fair
appearance, there is still much to be done before you will
be considered finished ; there must be a smoothing- down
of all rough edges, an infinite amount of polishing,
before you can hope to sail with becoming majesty.
Fortify yourselves for that last and most trying ordeal —
thorough examination — and strive to control the mighty
undercurrents of your stormy souls.
Joyful, yet trembling, are the Seniors, "wearing all
that weight of learning lightly, like a flower." their
letters of passport made out. all their bravery on, with
tackle trim, sails filled, and streamers waving, ready and
waiting to be launched upon the waves of the untried ocean.
You who, as yet. know not. or perhaps have for-
gotten, the joys and sorrows of the schoolgirl's existence,
can not realize what to-day means for us.
Standing on the threshold of a new life, our girlhood
steps forth with school days behind it, and the world of
womanhood before.
The season is in full sympathy with us, for all Nature
seems imbued with a festive spirit, and has robed herself
in gay colors, making the closing moments of our school
life fresh and beautiful. And vet an undercurrent of
162 INGLESIDE LOG.
sadness pervades the atmosphere, for parting is not sweet
sorrow to us ; it is, rather, a wrenching asunder of the ties
that have bound us together these last few years —
ties strengthened by the many pleasures and pains borne
together.
One great sorrow came to us last year, when the first
link in the class chain was broken, and a true young life
was extinguished. To recall her, is to us one of the
sweetest pleasures of memory. Alas ! only too soon,
memory alone will be our only realization of the present !
To-day is an epoch in the life of each one of us, and
we think, with the poet, of "Youth forever dear, forever
kind ; ' ' for it is only as necessity reminds us of what we
are losing, that we realize how dear the memory of these
last few years will always be to us. We are ' ' like the
watermen, that row one way and look another."
Girls, what does the future hold for us? Is it a life
of butterfly existence ? One round of selfish pleasure in
the false glitter of so-called society ? A thousand times
no ! Rather let ours be a womanly existence, kindled with
lofty thoughts and ambitions, and filled with noble deeds.
When we have left the protection of our Alma Mate?', let
us not forget, or rudely thrust aside, the noble principles
inculcated here. But let us wear, graven on our hearts,
purity, modesty and truth ! If we do this, the ocean
upon which we are launched to - day will prove ever a
trusty friend, and, looking fearlessly into the future,
ready to control the undercurrents of fate, we may
realize the, motto of '96: " Remis non Remo."
Juuk McNeil.
Abschiedsgrtisse an Ingleside.
LEBEWOHL, lieb' Ingleside !
1st die Zeit denn wirklich schon gekommen, wo
wir dir Lebewohl sagen miissen?
Ja, '96 ist hier. Die schnellfiissige Zeit eilt weiter
ohne Aufenthalt und befiehlt uns mit lauter Stimme, den
Freuden und Eeiden der lustigen Schultage Eebewohl zu
sagen.
Aber Gott hat uns ein Gedachtniss gegeben, und das
ist unser bestes Besitzthum. Wie heisst es doch schon in
dem schonen deutschen Eiede :
"O, wem ein rechtes Gedenken bluht,
Dem bluht die ganze Welt,
Und wessen Herz in Treue gliiht,
Um den ist's wohl bestellt."
Ja, treu wollen wir dir sein, lieb' Ingleside, treu
wollen wir den Wahlspruch bewahren, welchen du in
unsere Herzen gepflanzt hast :
"Tapfer, ernst und treu."
Oft in der Zukunft werden helle Bilder vor uns er-
scheinen. Eange Tische mit frohlichen, lachenden Mad-
chen tauchen vor unseren Blicken auf .
Es ist wenige Minuten vor Neun. Alle marschiren,
plaudernd wie Elstern, hinauf in's Turnzimmer ; der
1 64 INGLESIDE LOG.
"Triangle" erklingt, und plotzlich wird Alles still —
Herr Draper erscheint zum Gebet. —
Das Gebet ist voriiber, Alle eilen in's Schulzimmer ;
Biicher werden gesucht, aber oft nicht gefunden, — und
wenn es regnet, geht's mit Gummischuhen und Regen-
schirmen ebenso. Endlich ist man fertig und eilt zu den
Recitationen, unterwegs noch einmal die Aufgaben wie-
derholend. Hier und da hort man halblaute deutsche
und franzosische Satze oder eine eilig gefliisterte astro-
nomische Verhandlung. Doch wer konnte alle die Bilder
aufzahlen, welche ein Schulleben mit sich bringt? Ja,
das sind Zukunftsbilder.
Doch hier muss ich unserer lieben Mitschiilerinnen
gedenken, fur welche Ingleside nicht nur Schule, sondern
zu gleicher Zeit auch ein Heim war. Und was fiir ein
trautes, liebes Heim muss es nicht sein, in dem eine so
liebenswiirdige Hausmutter waltet und Alles so wohl
geregelt ist, und man so viele gute Freundinnen hat !
O gewiss ! ich verstehe es, dass fiir Euch der Abschied
noch viel schwerer sein muss als fiir uns, die wir doch
nur einen Theil des Tages hier verlebten.
Aber, liebe Freundinnen, ich bin sicher, dass wir Alle
einig sind in dem Gedanken, dass Ingleside uns und wir
Ingleside angehoren, und dass wir es Alle mit gleich
innigem Gefuhl nennen und immer nennen werden :
' ' Unser Ingleside ! ' '
Aber nun miissen wir zur Gegenwart zuriickkehren
und Abschied nehmen von all' den theueren Platzen, in
denen wir so manches Jahr ein und aus gin gen.
Adieu, Ihr lieben Vogelnester, Robin, Bobolink und
INGLESIDE LOG. 165
Cuckoo ! und auch Ihr anderen Hauser, empfanget unser
herzlichstes I^ebewohl !
I^ebet wohl, Ihr treuen l,ehrer, und unsere giitige
Patronin auf Hickory Hearth ! Habt Dank fur Alles,
was Ihr fur uns gethan. Wir bitten, bewahrt uns ein
freundliches Andenken, wie auch wir Kuerer stets in
I/iebe gedenken werden.
LlNA BOTSFORD.
Marching Song,
LAUREL, waving on the high hills,
Lilies, dancing in the stream,
Pink, with mossy green of dark rills,
Green, with white of silver sheen.
Laurel, breezes calling to thee
Murmur low o'er hill and field,
This thy watch- word given thro' me :
" Fighting, die, but never yield."
Lilies, lo! the laughing river
Whispers counsel gliding past,
In the rushes all a- quiver,
" Drift not, row unto the last."
Lilies, Laurel, now together
Bid farewell to Ingleside,
In the golden warm June weather
Hand and hope and heart allied.
Kneel before her for her blessing,
On her love and bount}' dwell,
All your debt to her confessing,
Then, reluctant, bid farewell.
Helen Hunt.
May 20th, '96.
Tree Song.
HAIL, Tree of "Ninety-six," all hail!
Rule now for us this hill and vale,
And be a living monument
To keep our memory.
Oh ! guard it e'er with zealous care,
Our future joys and sorrows share ;
Imbue us with all good intent,
Our inspiration be.
II.
Tho' ' ' Ninety-six " be scattered far,
Tho' Fortune smile, tho' Grief should mar.
We all in friendship's ties are bound,
Are links in friendship's chain :
'Mid stormy blasts, 'mid tempests drear,
Thy sturd} T heart will know not fear ;
Nor shall our hearts, for the}' are bound
In the Alumnae chain.
168 INGLESIDE LOG.
III.
And now, lest mem'ry's leaves should fade.
We standing here beneath thy shade,
From out the ' ' Loving Cup ' ' do pour
This water o'er thy feet :
Oh ! may it life and growth ensure,
And raise thy head in azure pure ;
And so may we grow evermore,
I^ife evermore be sweet !
Mabel A. Knibt.ok.
IXGLESIDE LOG. 171
Died.
In Chicago, Illinois, July 28th, 1S95
Helen Mary Tayeor,
Class of "96.
" Tapfer, ernst unci treu."
Married.
George E. Staub, of New Milford, to Sarah J. Maleett, of
Bridgewater, Ct., October 17th, 1895.
David C. Saxford, of Bridgeport, Ct., to Golda A. McAIahox,
of New Milford, December iSth, 1S95.
Henry Parish Deeafieed, to Marguerite M. Dewey, both of
New York City, January 26th, 1S96.
Normax J. Purce, to Freetoye C. Schlager, both of Bing-
hamton, X. Y., April 13th, 1896.
172 INGLES1DE LOG.
Officers of the Pansy Garten.
Mrs. Wm. D. Black, - - - G&rtnerin
Cora T. Underhill, '95, - - Untergdrtnerin
Augusta J. White, - Geheimschreiberin
Julie L. McNeil, '96, - - - Schatzmeisterin
Lillian Underhill, - - - Wdrterin
Ingleside Golf Club.
President, - Jean L. Hunt
Vice-President, - - Laura M. Post
Secretary, - Lena E. Thompson
Treasurer, A. Florence Browning
Stewards of the Course
Anna B. Fletcher Mabel D. Colvin
Emily W. Sailer Kate O. Pearson
Champion of '96 Tournament
A. Florence Browning
Names oj Links
^0. 1 — The Kant
No. 6 — The Swift
' ' 2 — The Great Scott
" 7— The Pitt
' ' 3 — The Hope
1 ' 8 — The Dickens
' ' 4 — The Longfellow
1 ' 9 — The Homer
" 5 — The Kidd's Evolution
Killi, Killeek ! A cleek, a cleek !
Chilli-how-ee ! A tee, a tee !
Caddy-co-ax ! Score your whacks !
Green and white for I. G. C. ! ! !
INGLESIDE LOG.
73
Chairman,
Secretary,
Treasurer,
Executive Committee.
FIRST TERM
Lena K. Thompson
Mabee E>. Coevin
Laura M. Pose
Members
Margaree G. Noyes
Jeanette M. Knap
Jueia L. McNeie
Pansies.
Cora T. Underhi^
Lieeian W. Underhiee
Augusta J. White
Chairman,
Secretary,
Treasurer,
SECOND TERM
Emiey W. Sailer
A. Florence Browning
Susie Neeson
Members
Ceara C. Carnahan
Mildred Thorpe
Julia L. McNeie
Pansies
Cora T. Underhiee
Lieeian W. Underhiee
Augusta J. White
174
INGLESIDE LOG.
Ingleside Directory,
1894-1895.
"THE BOBOLINK."
Mary Oeiver,
Anna O. McLean,
Ruth S. Knowees, .
Heeen A. Hunt,
Cora T. Underhiee,
Isabee C. Sadeer,
Chareotte Lowe,
Winnibee Cearke,
Paueine Otis,
Eeeen Reid,
Emiey Saieer,
Laura Post,
KatheeEn Higgins,
Edith McLean,
heeen m. Tayeor,
JUEIE McNElE,
Hattie Lindeey,
Jean L. Swords,
Moeey Townsend,
Lieeian Underhiee,
Eesie Schneeeer,
jueie parmeeee,
Susie Neeson, .
Janet Knap,
Gertrude Sanford,
Marian Swords,
Mamie Van Ingen,
THE CHICKADEE.
THE STUDIO.
THE HALL."
Pittsburg, Pa.
Troy, N. Y.
Killingworth, Ct.
New Milford, Ct.
Morristown, N. J.
Sedan, Kas.
Plainfield, N. J
Ansonia, Ct
Chicago, 111
Montclair, N. J
Philadelphia, Pa
New York City
Montclair, N. J.
Troy, N. Y.
Chicago, 111.
New York City
Colorado Springs, Col.
Morristown, N. J.
New Haven, Ct.
Morristown, N. J.
Ansonia, Ct.
New Haven, Ct.
Ansonia, Ct.
Sandusky, Ohio
Litchfield, Ct.
Morristown, N. J.
New York City
INGLESIDE LOG.
'75
Ingleside Directory— Continued.
"THE HALL."— Continued.
Elizabeth GiEEETTE, . • Des Moines, Iowa.
FLORENCE Browning, . . . Devon, Pa.
Edith Ide, .... Troy, N. Y.
Anna E. FeETCHER, . . . Denver, Col.
CaroeinE Roberts, . . Siasconsett, Mass.
THE CUCKOO.
Sophie Boucher,
Edwinna Hammond,
Feorence Hammond,
Aeice Dewey,
Katherine Dewey,
heeen Mieeer,
New York City.
Portland, Oreg.
Portland, Oreg.
New T York City
New York City
Albany, N. Y.
NEW MILFORD.
Adaeine L. Buck, Mabee A. Knibeoe,
Aeice B. Buck, Caroeine McMahon,
Edith D. Bennett, Bessie Booth,
Lena Botsford, Neeeie Kimein,
Minnie Beinn, . Bessie Brown,
Caroeine Schovereing.
Ingleside School.
1895 and 1896.
Mrs. Wm. D. Beack, Patroness and Manager,
Miss Ameeia Skieein, Head Mistress,
Rev. F. B. Draper,
Mr. W. F. Hart,
Miss Chareotte Boyer,
Fraueein E. Peegry,
Meee. August Fagier,
Mr. E. G. Ceemence,
Hickory Hearth
The Hall
The Rectory
Hotel Weantinaug
Attic Studio
The Hall
. The Studio
Hotel Weantinaug
176
INGLESIDE LOG.
Ingleside School— Continued.
INSTRUCTORS.
Miss Feeeows,
Miss Warner,
Miss Hunt, ....
Miss Loomis,
Miss Newton,
Miss Carrie Newton,
Mr. Charges Butterich,
Mrs. H. D. Hunt, House Mother,
Miss C. F. Hiix, Secretary,
Miss M. Rinker, Book-Keeper,
Miss M. K. Pennybacker, Household Manager, The Bindestrich
Miss M. Doone Pennybacker, Housekeeper, The Bindestrich
Miss Minee, Dressmaker and Seamstress, . The Robin
Pupils— Ingleside School.
1895-1896.
THE ROBIN.
. The Studio
The Cuckoo
. The Cuckoo
The Bobolink
The Robin
The Robin
New Haven, Ct.
The Bobolink
. The Cuckoo
The Cuckoo
Julia L. McNeil,
Emily W. Sailer, .
M. Elizabeth Gair,
Mabel D. Colvin,
Kate O. Pearson,
Augusta H. Knevals,
A. Florence Browning,
Winnibel Clarke,
Alice E. Bliss,
Cora S. Underhill,
Laura M. Post,
Alma B. Lyons, .
Lillian W. Underhill,
Augusta J. White,
Isabel N. Smith,
Bertha L. Barber,
THE STUDIO.
New York City
Philadelphia, Pa.
Brooklyn, N. Y.
Brooklyn, N. Y.
Hudson, N. Y.
New York City
Devon, Pa.
Ansonia, Ct.
. Hartford, Ct.
Morristown, N. J.
New York City
New York City
Morristown, N. J.
New York City
Brooklyn, N. Y.
Washington, D. C.
IXGLESIDE LOG.
177
Pupils— Ingleside School—
Continued.
"THE HALL."
Anna E. Fletcher,
Denver, Col.
Lena E. Thompson,
New York City
Janet M. Knap,
Sandusky, Ohio
Susie L. Nelson,
Ansonia, Ct.
Clara C. Carnahan,
Fort Wayne, Ind.
Echvinna C. Hammond,
Portland, Ore.
Harriet L. McNeil,
New York City
Emma W. Cooke,
Stamford, Ct.
Caroline M. Roberts,
Siasconsett, Mass.
Ruth S. Knowles,
Killingworth, Ct.
Evangeline Cape,
Washington, Ct.
"THE CUCKOO."
Sophie Boucher,
New York City
Margaret L. Noyes, . .
New York City
Ethel Hopkins,
Brooklyn, N. Y.
Elsie Jones, ....
Newark, N. J.
Mildred Thorpe,
Philadelphia, Pa.
Florence Hammond,
Portland, Ore.
Helen H. Mulliken, .
Washington, D. C.
"HICKORY HEARTH."
Margaret L. Sanford,
Litchfield, Ct.
Elsie Schneller,
Ansonia, Ct.
Isabel White, .
Utica, N. Y.
Flora F. Hewitt,
Derby, Ct.
Mary Hewitt, ....
Derby, Ct.
NEW MILFORD.
Edith E. Bennett, Carolina
: L. McMahon,
Lena A. Botsford, Lily G.
Hatch,
Mabel A. Knibloe, Sadie S
Smith,
Adeline LeRoy Buck, Norma Conkey,
Alice B. Buck, Julia E
Jennings,
178
INGLESIDE LOG.
Pupils— Ingleside School— Continued.
Bessie G. Brown,
Nellie M. Kimlin,
Minnie S. Blinn,
Alice N. Randall,
Edith Florence,
Laura H. Hill,
Bessie N. Booth.
Day Pupils.
Bessie N. Booth.
Adaline Iy. Buck.
Alice B. Buck.
Laura A. Hill.
Nellie M. Kimlin.
Caroline L. MacMahon
Alice N. Randall.
Ingleside Bicyclists.
Bertha L. Barber.
A. Florence Browning.
Mabel D. Colvin.
Emma Cooke.
Elsie Jones.
Augusta H. Knevals.
Harriet McNeil.
Helen P, Mulliken,
Kate O. Pearson.
Laura M. Post.
Isabel N. Smith.
Emily W. Sailer.
Mildred Thorpe.
Lillian W. Underhill.
Augusta J. White,
Ingleside Log.
;.93, |
'Q4. J
Editors.
Edith Warner,
Jean Lee Hunt, 94,
Miss Chareotte Boyer, Art Editor.
Contributors to Log of '96.
Isabel Nelson Smith, '97,
Jean Lee Hunt, '94,
Edith Warner, '93,
Margaret Noyes, .
Ethel Hopkins,
A. Florence Browning, '97,
Mildred Thorpe,
Sophie Boucher, '98,
Edith D. Bennett, '96,
Lillian Underhill, '97,
Helen Hunt, '95,
Edwinna Hammond, '98,
Elsie Jones,
Laura Post, '97, .
Harriet McNeil, '98, .
Janet Knap, '98,
Helen Mulliken,
May Hewitt,
Anna E. Fletcher, '97,
The Studio
The Studio
The Studio
The Cuckoo
The Cuckoo
The Studio
The Cuckoo
The Cuckoo
New Milford
The Studio
The Studio
The Hall
The Cuckoo
The Studio
The Hall
The Hall
The Cuckoo
Hickory Hearth
The Hall
i8o
INGLESIDE LOG.
Contributors to Log Of '96— Continued.
Lena Thompson, '97,
Susie Nelson, '97,
Winnibil Clarke, '97,
Florence Hammond,
Caroline Roberts, '98,
Mabel Colvin,
Bmma Cooke,
Evangeline Cape,
Emily W. Sailer,
Augusta J. White,
Mabel A. Knibloe,
Lena Botsford,
Kate 0. Pearson,
Julie McNeil,
Isabel White,
Augusta H. Knevals, .
Alice Bliss,
The Hall
The Hall
The Studio
The Cuckoo
The Cuckoo
The Robin
The Hall
The Hall
The Robin
The Studio
New Milford
New Milford
The Robin
The Robin
Hickory Hearth
The Studio
The Studio
Illustrations.
October — .Golden Rod,
November — Falling Leaves,
December — The First Snow,
January — Skating,
February — ' ' Exams, ' '
March — Church Spire,
April — The Return of the Birds,
May — May Flowers,
The Organ, .
Corner of Studio,
Afternoon Tea in Attic Studio, .
Cat-tails,
A. L. Buck
Lillian Underhill
Pauline Otis
R. S. Knowles
Alma Lyons
R. S. Knowles
Flora F. Hewitt
R. S. Knowles
. R. S. Knowles
R. S. Knowles
Jean Swords and Alice Randall
A, L> Buck
INGLESIDE LOG.
181
Contributors to Log Of '96— Continued.
Illustrations— Continued.
Vacation, ....
Pansies,
Tobogganing,
All Saints Church,
The Lighting of Fire at Hickory Hearth,
Cheese Roasting,
Story time,
"Bon Voyage," .
'"96," ....
Lillian Underhill
Flora F. Hewitt
R. S. Knowles
Adaline L. Buck
. R. S. Knowles
Mildred Thorpe
Edith Florence
Lillian Underhill
B.
Mabel Colvin,
Anna Fletcher,
Photographs
furnished by
Clara Carnahan,
Lena Thompson.
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